


All the King's Horses

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Family Don't End With Blood [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Big Brother Tony, Dean in Purgatory, Depression, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam, Loki and Sam are bros, Loki knew Gabriel, Lots of angst in here, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Sam, The Cage, Tony takes care of Sam, Violence, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, best bros, mentions of torture, trigger warnings for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 74,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: After Dean and Castiel are blasted into Purgatory, Sam is left alone and with no idea where his brother or his brother's angel are, or if they're even alive. After exhausting all angles, Sam does the only thing he can do - he calls his other brother. And, just like always, Tony rushes right in, ready to help Sam try and pick up the pieces and find a way to put his life back together.It's going to take more than just Tony this time, though. After dealing with the crazy that came from his broken wall, and the memories that never went away, and now losing his brother, Sam was broken in more ways than ever before. Will Tony and the other Avengers be able to help him put all the pieces back together? Or had he finally been broken one too many times?





	1. Chapter 1

The air was cold as it blew over Sam Winchester’s skin. He barely paid it any mind. Even as his skin rose up with chills, he paid no focus to any of it. What did any of it matter?

There was no one around for miles to see as Sam stood next to the empty Impala on the side of the road. He’d been driving for who knew how long and he’d only stopped when he realized that he had no idea where he was even driving to. Grief had made him so numb he’d barely paid any attention these past few weeks to what he was doing or where he was going. Ever since their fight at Sucracorp… ever since Dean and Castiel had stood there and killed Dick Roman… ever since they vanished…

Sam lifted one of his hands to rest against the car so that he wouldn’t end up toppling forward. His legs felt like they weren’t going to hold him much longer. He needed to get out of the road, to go somewhere, only - there was nowhere for him to go. Sam stared down at the car in front of him and just, stayed there. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even breathe, it felt like. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do here. What was the protocol when your brother vanishes off the face of the earth? The last time Dean had died, figuring out what to do had seemed almost simple. Try to make a deal, fight demons, hunt down Lilith. Those were all goals that gave Sam purpose. This time… this time he just didn’t know. He didn’t even know if Dean was actually dead! All he knew was that he and Castiel had ganked that Leviathan and now they were, they were _gone_.

A shudder shook Sam’s tall frame. Two weeks now that he’d been wandering aimlessly, trying to think of what to do, trying to find anything that might clue him in to where his brother had gone, and he’d come up with nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was sort of pathetic just how much he broke apart without his brother’s presence in his life. Even with all the mistakes between them, all the problems that were still there, being without Dean was something that Sam just couldn’t seem to grasp. A world without Dean felt like no world at all. Even when Sam had been at Stanford, he’d always known that Dean was out there somewhere – living, existing – and that he could still call on him no matter the trouble that existed between them. Even later when they’d separated for a while, when Sam broke the world, and he was so sure Dean hated him, he knew that if it came down to life or death he could always call on Dean and his brother would show up. Sure, he might bitch at Sam, might throw a punch or two later on, but he’d be there.

Now? Now he had no one. That reminder was glaringly clear each day he got behind the wheel of the Impala.

What was Sam supposed to do with himself? Where was he even supposed to go? Bobby was gone, Dean was gone, Castiel was gone. Crowley had taken Kevin and Sam had no idea how to even begin trying to find him. There was nowhere for Sam to go. No one to help him, help direct him, help him find his way through all of this.

That was even more pathetic. No matter how much Sam tried to insist that he was an adult now, that he could make his own decisions, all it took was taking away his brother to leave him an absolute wreck. But Sam needed him. He needed someone who could keep him on the straight and narrow. Someone who wasn’t afraid to tell him when he was screwing up. Because when Sam was left alone to make his own choices, he always seemed to make the wrong ones, and the consequences of them were rather cataclysmic.

As he stood there staring, the realization hit that there was _one_ person he could call on. Someone who had supported Sam plenty of times in the past, though no one knew about it. Someone who wasn’t afraid to tell him when he was being stupid, and who would most definitely keep him from actually managing to _do_ something stupid.

Sam pulled his phone from his pocket and stared down at it for a few long minutes. It felt kind of like a betrayal to be making this call. _Dean wouldn’t like it._

However, Dean was _gone_ , and right now Sam just… he just needed someone who could help him make it through that. Someone who would understand and would maybe even try and help him find a way to fix this. More than that, though – and Sam hated himself a little more for admitting this, even inside his own head – he needed someone who would take care of him, and who’d always managed to do it without making Sam feel like they were trying to replace Dean.

With shaking fingers, Sam dialed a familiar number, and he waited for the voice at the other end of the line.

* * *

Halfway across the country, another man was relaxing quite comfortably on a couch in Stark Tower, perfectly content to watch the amusement of his teammates playing board games in front of him. It’d been almost six months since the Avengers had moved into his Tower. In that time, Tony Stark had found himself surprisingly close to the people here. More than just the bonds forged in battle, as Thor liked to put it. He honestly saw himself _liking_ these people. A rare enough occurrence for someone like him.

There were very few people in Tony’s life that he considered his friends. Even fewer still that were more than that.

When his phone rang, and he looked down at the random number there, he smiled a little to himself, pressing the ‘answer’ button and lifting it up to speak to one of those very few people who’d made it to the rank of family in his mind. Just in case it wasn’t, if maybe someone strange had gotten his number, he answered with a comfortable “Stark.”

“ _H-Hey Tony._ ”

The sound of that voice on the other end of the line sent instant alarm bells ringing in Tony’s mind. Almost as much as the fact that he’d gotten the call without any warning text first to make sure he was in a secure place to talk. That spoke of trouble. The urge to demand ‘What happened?’ hit hard and fast, and was just as quickly discarded. It took work to make his tone as light as he did when he answered that voice. “Well hey there. Long time no snark, big man. How’s it going?”

There was a brief pause in which Tony doubted he was supposed to hear Sam’s low huff or the little hitch in that breath. For him to be able to catch it through the phone like that, it didn’t spell good things, and Tony’s worries increased. A second later, those worries proved to be well-founded. Sam’s voice shook even more, and his words were so hesitant, so broken, it set every protective instinct for this guy just buzzing. “ _I don’t… I wasn’t sure if I should call or not. I’m not, I mean…things aren’t, good. I know you’re, um, you’re probably busy with your new friends and all, and, and I probably shouldn’t have called…_ ”

Tony couldn’t keep quiet. Not at that. Ignoring the eyes on him, he pushed himself up off the couch as casually as he could, making his voice add to that casualness as he told one of his closest friends “Shut up.” He waited until he was over in the kitchen and had at least some semblance of privacy before continuing. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“ _No,_ ” Sam said with such broken, brutal honesty, it was like a punch to the gut. He made a soft sound that might’ve been a laugh, though it came out sounding painful. “ _Everything is, well, it’s messed up. I can’t… Tone, I don’t, I don’t know what to do._ ”

Jesus _shit_. How on earth was it possible that a twenty-nine-year-old man could come off sounding so much like a broken kid? There was absolutely no hesitation on Tony’s part before he said: “You tell me where you are and I’ll come get you, that’s what you do.”

“ _Tony…_ ”

“Ah, ah, nope, no, not having this argument. Come on, pipsqueak. Coordinates. Or, you know what, I’ve got something better.” Tony completely ignored the way those in the room were now watching, and he just called out. “Hey, Jarv, track the pipsqueak’s phone, would you? And you, Feathers,” he turned towards Clint, knowing the archer was already watching him. It was a big deal, what he was about to ask Clint to do, and any other time Tony wouldn’t have done it. He and Sam had only discussed introducing him to the team _once_. But right now Sam’s tone was telling Tony that he was going to have his hands full when he picked the kid up and having someone he trusted to fly them would make it easier. Plus, there was no way he was bringing Sam anywhere but here, and the other Avengers lived here. Decision firm in his mind, Tony looked at Clint and called out “Feel like taking a flight?”

Even as Clint was raising his eyebrows and nodding, already pushing up off his chair, Steve was demanding “What’s going on?” and Sam was saying “ _Tone, I can’t. I’ve got the… the car. I can’t leave it here._ ”

Oh, hell, that broken sound was getting worse in Sam’s voice, and all sorts of things were wrong with that sentence. Only one thing made any sense, and it just made it that much more imperative that he get Sam back here _now_.

His tone was a bit sharper when he called out “Make that the big jet, Barton. We’ve got a passenger on four wheels as well as two legs.” That dealt with, he turned his focus back to the phone. “Do I need the suit?” With Sam, there was no telling what kind of danger he’d be in. Especially considering these last few years. The kid had gone up against a shit storm of things, and Tony wasn’t going to just walk into any situation blindly. That was always a smart plan, and even more so when dealing with his Winchester.

“ _No_ ,” Sam said softly. “ _No suit. I just…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing, Tone. It’s all messed up. Everything’s so messed up._ ”

Those watching got the surprise of their life when they witnessed Tony soften in a way they’d only ever seen him do with Pepper or with the small children they met sometimes, the ones that idolized the Avengers. “Hey, hey, none of that. No doubting my awesomeness here, kid. We’ll figure out a way to fix it. I just need you to hang on for me, okay? Clint’s firing up the jet, and we’re going to be on our way to you as quickly as possible. Are you safe until we get there?” There were layers to that question he knew Sam would get.

“ _Yeah. Yeah, I’m just at the side of the road. No one’s gone by for quite a while._ ”

“Good. Then here’s what you’re going to do. I want you to get inside the car, lock all the doors, and wait for me, all right? I’ll be there in…” He paused, waiting for a second as JARVIS quietly supplied him their ETA, and then continued on. “…a little over an hour. Just hang on for one more hour and then I’ll be there.”

“ _Okay_.”

There were so many other things that Tony wanted to say here. A whole list of things he wanted to give to this kid, a kid who’d gotten under his skin all those ago and had wormed his way past every single defense that Tony had, making himself a home right in by the heart he liked to pretend he didn’t have. Tony wanted to say the kinds of things that would stun the other Avengers. But right now, with Sam sounding the way that he did, none of it would really register with him. Sam wasn’t going to be listening to it. That would come later, once Tony knew what exactly was going on and how he could help fix it.

After another round of reassurance that Sam was okay where he was, the two hung up, and Tony immediately started to set out from the room. He should’ve known he wouldn’t get far. “Stark!” Steve called out his name, that edge to his voice that he got when he was left out of the loop and wanted to know what was going on, _right now_. Only, when Tony turned to look at him, there was no annoyance on his face, no stubborn look like he got when he was ready to start demanding information. Instead, there was something else there, something that almost resembled caring, and concern for whatever was going on. What he asked was not what Tony was expecting. “What can we do to help?”

That was… unexpected. It threw Tony for just one split second. Then he was covering it up with his usual masks. A smirk curved his lips, and he shook his head. “Nothing.” Belatedly, he added a “Thanks, though.” Before anyone could spring anything else on him, he spun on his heel and started to hurry towards the elevator. “JARVIS, make sure Sam’s room’s ready for him. I want it aired out and fresh bedding put on, and make sure that the list of things I gave you last time are in there. And while you’re at it, contact Brucie Bear. We might need his expert hands later on…” His voice trailed off for the others as the elevator doors shut and the common room fell silent while the rest of the Avengers looked at one another and wondered what on earth was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know, I double checked height for Hawkeye, and while in the movies the actor is only 5’10”, Hawkeye in the comics is 6’3”, so I’m going with that height.

Following Tony’s directions wasn’t hard for Sam to do. He sat himself down inside of the Impala, locked all the doors, and simply waited for the arrival of a friend who had somehow morphed into another big brother over the years. Despite how much Tony might scoff at the idea of having a heart, or how he liked to play to the press that he didn’t, Sam knew better. He’d seen the protective and caring side of Tony long before Iron Man came into the picture. He’d learned how to look beyond the masks. In that sense, the man was a lot like Dean. He hid the gentler side of himself underneath a mask that kept him safe and protected from being hurt. Sam knew he was damn lucky to have been let in past all that.

Right now, that kind friend that hid underneath the snark was exactly what Sam needed. He needed him more than he ever had before. For the first time Sam was well and truly alone and he just, he didn’t know how to do it. He had no idea how to handle this.

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to worry about it for long. Tony arrived within the hour time limit he’d given Sam. He didn’t bother going for subtle. Not that subtle was a word that anyone ever really associated with Tony.

Sam sat inside the car and watched as one of Tony’s jets landed in the field not that far from him. He stayed there, simply staring at the window, as the back of the jet opened and Tony came striding out, not a single person with him. He came alone and moved without an ounce of fear straight towards the Impala. Sam mustered up the energy to unlock the doors. Beyond that, he simply sat there, staring and waiting as Tony came towards him. The man strode right up to the passenger’s side where Sam was seated. When he opened the door, Sam watched sort of numbly as Tony squatted down beside him. Sharp eyes ran over Sam in a quick physical assessment. Then Tony was looking at his face, and he was giving that smile that very few people got to see. “Hey there, pipsqueak. You ready to get out of here?”

Did it really matter _where_ he was? None of these places… none of them had Dean. Here, there, what did it matter?

“All right,” Tony said, like he’d actually answered him. “All right, kid, that’s fine. I got this.”

With just a gentle brush of his hand over Sam’s leg, he was standing up once more and moving back from the car. The door was shut and then Tony was moving around the hood and coming up to the driver’s door. Sam thought vaguely of protesting. No one was supposed to drive Dean’s car except Dean! He was just too numb to say anything, though. Too numb to do much but sit there and watch as Tony settled behind the wheel and reached for the keys that were still in the ignition.

Sam stared at him, studying his face, reading the lines that hadn’t been there the last time they’d gotten together. He watched the competent way that Tony got the car going and steered it towards the open ramp at the back of the jet. Dean would’ve protested driving through the field like that. He _really_ would’ve protested driving it up into the belly of a jet. Mostly, though, because he wouldn’t be caught dead inside of anything that was going to take him up in the air.

His own choice of words there had Sam wincing. _Don’t think about it. Dean’s not dead – he’s not! If he were dead, there’d be a body. There’d be some kind of body there if he were dead. There’d be angel wings burned into the ground from Cas. They’re not dead. He’s not!_

“He’s not dead.” Sam didn’t realize at first that he was going to say the words. Not until they’d already come out of his mouth. However, once they did, he couldn’t stop himself from repeating them. “He’s _not_. There… there wasn’t a body. If he were dead, there’d be a body.” There’d be something left behind. A body, pieces – _bits of blood and skin and bone, flying through the air, splattering all over the place, “Nobody dicks with Michael but me”_ – something to show that he’d been killed. But there’d been nothing. Not a thing.

The car slowed to a stop, but Sam didn’t focus on it. He did, however, focus on the hand that reached over and laid on his thigh, a warm and comforting weight. “Okay,” Tony said. Nothing else, no qualifications or arguments or anything like that. Just, okay.

When the car parked, Sam moved on autopilot. His movements were stiff as he climbed up and out of the Impala. Once standing there, though, he didn’t really know what to do. What was he supposed to be doing right now? It wasn’t until Tony softly called his name that Sam looked up again and realized he’d drifted. His brother was standing a few feet away by the front of the car, watching him with a hint of worry pinching the corners of his eyes. His voice was still relaxed, though, as he told Sam “Come on, puppy. Let’s go sit down.”

That – that sounded like a good idea. It really did.

Sam made it two steps before his knees started to give way.

He heard Tony’s low “shit” and then strong arms were there to catch him. They were stronger than they looked, which was lucky because Sam wasn’t sure he could hold himself up anymore. He sank into Tony and trusted the other man to bear his weight. And Tony did. He grunted, but he caught Sam up against him, holding him tight. “Okay, all right, we’re doing this right here, then. Okay. Come on, puppy, let’s at least get somewhere a bit more comfortable.” He started to move, and Sam must’ve made some sort of sound because Tony started to shush him. “Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you, all right? I’m right here.”

Slowly but surely the two moved over to a row of seats against the far wall of the jet. Tony snuck a look up at the camera where he knew Barton would be able to see pretty much everything that was going on. Then he looked away. Who cared who saw him? They weren’t important right now. What was important was the giant of a man coming apart at the seams. Tony could feel the tremors running through every inch of Sam’s body. It took effort to get him stretched out on the seats.

They ended up in a position that was familiar to the both of them. Sam had his head on Tony’s thigh, face turned in to bury against his hip, and Tony let his fingers begin to card through Sam’s hair. It was a position that spoke of _comfort_ and _home_. There wasn’t the scent of alcohol anymore to Tony, though Sam still couldn’t smell bourbon without thinking of his oldest brother. Instead of that, Tony smelled a bit like his shop – motor oil, something else that was just slightly burnt, and a hint of the cleaner he used to get grease off his hands – all underscored by that slightly spicy cologne that he liked to wear. It told Sam he’d been at home and relaxing before coming here.

Sam shuddered a little as he pressed himself in just a bit closer. At the same time, his stomach clenched, guilt gnawing at him for seeking this out. For lying here with Tony instead of trying to hunt down what had happened to Dean.

He didn’t realize he’d been making any sound until Tony started to shush him. Just quiet, gentle murmurs that Sam didn’t bother trying to understand. He just held on a little tighter and let Tony’s voice carry him away from the fear and the pain that ate at his insides.

* * *

Time held no meaning for Sam. He had no idea how long they’d been flying for or even that they’d started to come in to land. All he knew was that Tony was suddenly curling over him and he was using one hand to smooth some of the hair back from Sam’s face. Sam didn’t look up; he didn’t have to. He knew the soft look that would be on Tony’s face at that moment. It showed in his tone as he murmured to Sam, low and easy, “Come on, pipsqueak. Why don’t we take this somewhere a whole lot more comfortable.”

That wasn’t phrased like a question. Sam knew he wasn’t going to get away with just laying here. _This is what you wanted_ , he reminded himself. _Someone who wasn’t going to take your shit. Someone you knew would look after you_.

It felt good – better than it should have – to hand himself over to Tony and let the other man coax him up to his feet. There was no one else around as Tony got Sam off the jet and into a large, empty hanger. From there, Sam didn’t really pay any attention. He wasn’t sure he could. All of his focus was on just putting one foot in front of the other. Where they went didn’t matter. Tony was right there with him. Not once did the older man let go of him. He kept a hold on Sam and steered him where he needed to go, and Sam trusted him.

Eventually - after an elevator trip - they ended up in what Sam's bleary eyes told him was a room. His room. The world seemed to be going by in long, strange blinks. Like Sam blinked and had been in the elevator, and then blinked and he was in the room. Now, he blinked and somehow found himself being stripped down to his boxers, and then another blink found him lying on his bed. A bed which dipped under the weight of a second body.

The blankets were tucked over Sam and the pillows adjusted until Tony was propped up against the headboard right alongside Sam, close enough for the heat of his body to start chasing away some of the chills in Sam's. He closed his eyes as Tony's hand settled into his hair once more. “Just sleep, Sam,” Tony murmured quietly. “We'll figure it out later. Just sleep.”

That was advice Sam could follow. Though he knew his sleep would be riddled with nightmares, he let himself drift off with Tony beside him. The one person who had been there every single time Sam's life had been low and who had always helped support him until Sam could find his feet again.

* * *

As Sam had slowly started to drift off next to him, Tony was busy planning. There were a whole ton of clues already in front of him, and not a single one of them were good. Few things knocked Sam down on his ass like this. Judging by Sam's earlier words - _“He's not dead.” -_ it wasn't hard to guess what was going on.

If Dean were gone, there was no way that Tony was going to let Sam go anywhere else. The kid was going to stay here until they either found Dean or Tony could be sure that letting Sam wouldn't be a danger to himself out on his own. But if Sam was going to stay here, it meant that the question of telling the team was no longer actually a question. They needed to know some important things if they wanted to stay here. Because, despite Sam's best efforts, and Tony's, supernatural shit seemed to be drawn to the kid. There was no doubt in Tony's mind that something would crop up while Sam was here. Better the team gets prepared for it now.

“Hey, J, get everyone together for me in Sam's living room and then show them the ‘Intro to Weird Shit’ video we made.”

“I'll take care of it immediately, Sir,” JARVIS answered immediately.

While he left the others in JARVIS's capable hands, Tony was free to look down at the face below him. A face that showed tension even in sleep. There were lines around Sam's eyes and tension in his forehead. Tony let out a sigh that no one was around to hear. He also softened into something that the rest of the Avengers would've been surprised to see. “You can't just catch a break, pipsqueak, can you?”

Sam shouldn't have been out on the road. No matter what Castiel had done to try and fix what he'd done to Sam's head, the kid hadn't been perfect afterward. While Dean might've thought Castiel took it all, Tony didn't believe it. The way that Sam looked had made it clear he was still haunted. Later, Sam had explained it as “It was... part of Lucifer's grace was still there, ripping at my head and screwing with me. Cas took that into himself. He... he took whatever it was that was making me crazy. He didn't take the memories.”

That meant that Sam had gone back out on the road and off to save the world while trying to cope with the fact that he could still clearly remember every bit of torture he'd suffered down in the Cage. From what JARVIS was able to gather while spying on them, it was clear Sam still suffered from flashbacks, nightmares, bouts of fear and anxiety, mood swings, hypervigilance - basically, the PTSD symptom checklist. Of course, Sam had already had half those things even _before_ hell, but they'd noticeably worsened according to JARVIS, and Tony never doubted JARVIS's data gathering.

If it'd been up to Tony, he would have had Sam back here with him, seeing a professional. Someone they could carefully screen and introduce to the supernatural. Someone who could help Sam work his way through the _literal hell_ he'd been through.

The idea of Tony trying to push anyone into getting counseling was enough to make him snort a little to himself. People would be stunned by it. He'd been told often enough that _he_ needed to go see someone. There was a difference between what they'd gone through, though. Tony wasn't saying his own shit wasn't bad. He'd learned better than to do that. He was just... he had a support system here. He had people he could talk to. If nightmares hit, or he slipped into one of his more manic episodes, Tony had an entire team here to help him. More than that, he had someone else now. Someone special.

That only reminded Tony that he'd yet to explain that to Sam. “Another conversation we get to have while you're here, puppy.”

Now wasn't the time for that, though. Now, Tony had other things to focus on.

Very carefully he began to extract himself from the bed. It took a little effort to manage to do it without waking Sam. He'd become pretty skilled at that, though.

Once Tony was on his feet, he quietly made his way out of the room, knowing that there really wasn't any more time to waste.

He was hoping to get a good half hour to an hour before the first nightmare hit - and Tony wasn't under any delusion that a nightmare wouldn't hit. Nightmares were a common occurrence for Sam back before Hell. Now? Now, they were pretty much an all the time thing. Tony could only imagine it was worse after whatever this new thing was that had happened. If he were lucky, he'd be able to get the big questions with the team out of the way before the first nightmare struck.

When Tony finally made his way out to the living area, he wasn't surprised to see everyone sitting there around the TV. Nothing was playing, which must've meant that he'd given them enough time to get through JARVIS's whole “the supernatural is real” spiel. Good. That meant that the first hurdle was out of the way. Knowing JARVIS, he would've put proof in there. Data that he'd gathered over the years, potentially videos that they'd managed to capture. Granted, there weren't much of _those_ , but they had enough.

Now came the hardest part. The part that Tony really didn't want to have to do. He was going to have to answer all their questions and admit that, yes, this really _was_ real, and oh yeah, one of the best damn hunters on the planet was sleeping in the tower, and he's been through literal hell so be nice?

That was going to go over _so_ well.

Tony made a beeline for the coffee pot. There was no way he was doing this without coffee in his system.

Not for the first time, he said a fervent prayer of thanks for JARVIS. There was already coffee brewed and waiting for him when he got there. The good stuff, too. Tony grabbed a mug and immediately poured himself some.

When he turned back around, he found that everyone was watching him. Tony leaned back against the counter closest to the living room and cradled his coffee mug between his hands as he took in the shocked and slightly disbelieving expressions that had been turned his way. There was a momentary debate in the back of Tony's head about how to handle this. Then he just threw caution to the wind and offered them all his best grin. “So, I take it J played you all the whole Intro to Weird Shit - any questions?”

There was a reluctant twitch to Bruce's lips that made it clear he was more amused than he wanted to admit to.

“You expect us to believe this?” Steve asked incredulously.

Tony shrugged one shoulder negligently. Like it didn't really matter what they thought about all of this. No need to let them know right from the start just how important this really was. “I don't expect much of anything, Cap.” Tony took a drink off his coffee and smirked over the rim of the cup. “Believe it or don't. The facts won't change either way. Everything JARVIS showed you was true. We have the science to back it up.”

That had Bruce perking up just a bit, exactly the way that Tony knew it would. “JARVIS said you guys had evidence, but he didn't pull up anything like that.”

Yeah, because the only person it would've made any difference to was Bruce. It likely would've lost everyone else. Tony's smile softened a little into something a lot more honest. “Come on down to the workshop later, and I'll walk you through it. You wouldn't believe the data we've collected on demonic possession alone. And the _angels_ , oh, man, Brucie! What I've seen from that, the things I can do with it!”

“Can we focus?” Natasha said dryly. “You two can science later. For now, I'd like to focus on the fact that all these things are seemingly real. And why you felt the need to tell us now. I'm assuming it has something to do with the person you brought back to the tower?”

Leave it to Natasha to cut through the bullshit. She was the one who always saw more than the rest of them. Her and Clint, at least. Judging by the way that Clint was watching him, the curious yet sympathetic look on his face, he'd caught a little on the cameras and had formulated his own opinions from it. What those were, Tony wasn't sure, nor was he sure how much of them that Clint had already shared.

Tony chose his own answer carefully. His whole plan here was to tell them things to make Sam more comfortable. Yet, he didn't want to give away too much. That would only make Sam _un_ comfortable in the long run. “It does,” he settled on saying, working to keep his tone casual. “The people who fight against the supernatural, they're called Hunters, and that kid in there is one of the best Hunters to walk the planet.” Tony gave a small pause for dramatic effect before he smiled broadly. “He also happens to be my little brother.”

It probably said bad things about him that Tony found humor in the surprised outcry from the others. Steve's “ _What_?”, Natasha openly gaping at him, Clint looking like he was slapped, and Bruce's surprised “You have a _brother_?”

Tony waited for them to calm down and quiet a bit before he answered them. Right then, he really could've used his partner's silver tongue to help smooth things along. He just had to hope his own was up to the task.

“Sam grew up in the life. He's been a Hunter since he was old enough to have a gun put in his hands.” At least, old enough in John Winchester's eyes, which was far earlier than Tony was comfortable even _thinking_ about. “He's been through some serious hell and back - and I mean, literal _hell_. But him and his brother, Dean, they've saved the world more times than we have. Only no one knows about it, because no one believes these kinds of things even exist. They stopped the actual _Apocalypse_ a few years back.”

Steve mouthed those words back at him like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

“The apocalypse,” Natasha repeated slowly. She was watching him with a cautious, curious look, one that made him feel like she was seeing more than he wanted her to.

He nodded at her. “Yep. Side note - J, make sure to add Apocalypse info to the Weird Shit Rundown.” Taking another drink, Tony looked at them all, letting his words sink in. They were big, he knew. That was why he made sure not to use his usual joking tone. This was important. “There's a lot of Sam's story that's not mine to tell. He's got the right to tell you himself. A lot of it isn't pretty. But something is going on right now, something I've got no idea about. Though I'd bet my suits on the fact that it's got something to do with Dean. It's the only reason he'd be this broken up, or that he'd be alone with the car.” Dean was more possessive over that car than Tony was over his suits. There was no way Sam would have it if Dean were still around to prevent it.

Tony set his mostly empty cup down on the counter and then stood up a little straighter as he faced them all once more. “Listen, I'm not telling you guys this because I think we're going to be attacked or something like that, or because I need anything. But right now, Sam needs me, an that means he's going to be staying here for a while. Where he goes, supernatural shit seems to follow, and I wanted you guys prepared for that. This is your home, too.”

Those last words came out more of a mumble than anything else. They were something that Tony had thought plenty of times before, he'd just never said it actually _out loud_ to them. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to look up at them after saying something so disgustingly open, either.

JARVIS rescued him before he had to, though not in the way Tony would've preferred. “Sir, Master Sam is stirring.”

That was enough to have Tony's whole posture shifting. Everyone got to see as he straightened up and his nerves faded away, and everything else was pushed into the background. It was the big brother in him that moved away from the counter and was already heading towards the hallway even as he called out “You guys have any questions, J will answer what he can. I'll bring Sam by to introduce him in the morning.” And then Tony was gone, leaving everyone sitting there staring after him, wonder what the hell was going on with the genius they realized they might not know as well as they thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my darling River for helping look through this for me, and my other Discord Darlings for putting up with me as I plot this story out :D

When Sam woke up in the morning, there was a brief moment of disorientation. A split second where he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened to him. Then he felt the body pressed up against his - more specifically, the hard casing of the arc reactor against his back - and it all came flooding back in. Sam closed his eyes against the familiar wave of grief.

Slipping out of bed without disturbing Tony was pretty easy. They were in Tony's room at the tower. Sam recognized it with just a glance. Though... some things were different. Pictures that were gone, items that weren't where they should be. Sam took a look around and felt a moment of sorrow for his brother break through his own grief. For a while now Sam had been reading the signs - since the Attack that brought the Avengers together. It looked like Pepper had finally decided that enough was enough. There was no trace of her left in the room.

There were, however, other traces. Someone else had been in here with Tony. Often enough to leave little bits of themselves lying here and there. A book over on the dresser, a green shirt draped over the back of a chair that looked a little too long in the arms to be Tony's.

Sam shook his head and pushed away those thoughts. He wasn't going to press. Obviously, Tony wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

On quiet feet, he made his way to the bathroom. He snagged his duffel bag from the floor along the way and brought it in with him. Even if Sam didn't really feel like doing more than curling back up in bed, he knew better than to let himself do that. Doing that was how he ended up staying in bed for days on end. So, Sam didn't let himself. Even when he felt his lowest he still fought to get up and shower. If he ended up back in bed afterward... at least he'd made an effort.

The shower was already running when Sam got to the bathroom. He cast a small smile up towards one of the nearby cameras. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“We're glad to have you home, Sam,” JARVIS said, welcome and affection clear in his voice.

Sam stripped out of his clothes and tossed them into the nearby hamper. He didn't bother looking at himself in the mirror as he went to the shower. What was the point? He knew just how bad he looked right now. How much weight he'd lost, both from his time with the broken wall, and then recently. Sam was also aware of the myriad of cuts and bruises that he carried that still hadn't healed from the last hunt.

The hot water of the shower felt _amazing_. Sam felt it sink into his bones from the instant that he stepped into the shower. He shut the door behind him and then didn't hesitate to turn and duck his face underneath the stream of water. The water washed over his face and down his body, chasing away the chill that ate away at his insides with each passing day.

There was no telling how long Sam stood and let the water just wash over him before he heard the bathroom door open. His body tensed instinctively, only to loosen when he heard Tony's familiar voice. “I hear any indecent sounds in there, and I'm having JARVIS turn it on cold.”

A shiver ran down Sam's spine. Memories tried to creep forward, and somehow he managed to push them back. Hopefully, nothing showed in his voice as he said: “It'd be the last thing you ever did.”

Tony gave a low laugh. “Terrifying, puppy. I'm shaking in my boots.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam finally moved his head away from the water, and he reached for the shampoo. With Tony in here, he might as well try and actually get himself washed, not just stand here and soak up the heat from the water. It made it a little easier, actually, to start to clean himself up with the sounds of Tony brushing his teeth so close by.

For the first time in quite a while, Sam didn't feel so _alone_. He was here in the tower, with Tony, and he was safe. Tony would help him. He'd help take care of Sam in those times that Sam couldn't take care of himself. He'd look out for him. _God_ , it was pathetic just how badly he needed that right now.

Sam had gotten so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't realized that he'd just been standing there under the water again, head bowed down. Not until the water shut off and the door opened beside him. A large towel was tossed over his shoulders and then used to tug him out of the shower. “Come on, puppy. Let's get you out of there and dry before you end up turning into a prune.”

“I can dry myself,” Sam mumbled reflexively. God, he felt _exhausted_. Just... just freaking _drained_. Like he had nothing left in him to give.

Tony hummed and just kept on drawing Sam outwards. He got him stopped on the bath mat and then shoved a second towel at Sam's hands. “Go on, get dry then.” That said, Tony hooked a nearby bench with his ankle, drew it close, and then _climbed up on it._ The sight of that was enough to snap Sam out of his fog for a moment. He looked up in surprise as Tony stood on top the bench and grinned down at him without an ounce of shame. “You're a giant,” Tony pointed out, far too gleefully. “How do you expect me to get your hair dry from all the way down there?”

“You could actually let me dry myself?” Sam suggested in a wry voice.

Snorting, Tony responded to that by pulling the towel from Sam's shoulders and tossing it over Sam's head.

As Tony dried Sam's hair, and Sam carefully dried the rest of himself, Tony calmly spoke up. “When we get you dry and in boxers, you're gonna sit on this bench and I'll bandage up what needs bandaging.” His tone of voice made it clear this wasn't a request. This was Tony taking care of Sam whether Sam liked it or not. “JARVIS says you don't have anything broken, but a few of those cuts need some ointment on them and at least a band-aid or two. So, we'll get those taken care of, patch you up, and then head on downstairs for some breakfast. How's that sound?”

It sounded exhausting. Sam didn't say that, though. He just bundled up his towel and tossed it into the hamper. “All right.”

If Tony noticed the lackluster sound in Sam's voice, he didn't say anything about it. He just finished what he was doing and then hopped down while Sam pulled on boxers and pants. Once the younger Winchester was seated on the bench, Tony came forward with a first aid kit that would've impressed any hunter. The fact that he kept one like that in his bathroom probably said a lot about him, or about Sam, or about the both of them. They'd both used it often enough.

Sam sat quietly as Tony cleaned him up and bandaged the few cuts that he felt needed it. It felt kind of good to just sit there in the quiet and let himself be taken care of. Sam was free to close his eyes for a bit and not have to worry about what was going on, what was going to happen next, what he was going to do. Tony had told him exactly what they were going to do. He'd made it clear what their plans for the morning were.

Maybe it was the peaceful mood around them, or the lack of pressure from Tony, or just the fact that it was Tony at all - whatever it was, Sam found himself speaking softly, saying the words he didn't want to even think about. “Dean's missing.” _What happened to you, Dean? Where are you?_ Sam shuddered a little and ducked his head down. “He's not... he's not dead. There wasn't a body. But they... he and Cas, they took out Dick Roman, and they just... they vanished. All of them vanished. I don't know where he is, Tone. I can't find him. I can't find a sign of them _anywhere_.”

“All right.” Tony's fingers were gentle and steady as he spread ointment over a cut on the back of Sam's left shoulder. Neither his touch nor his voice faltered in the slightest bit. “We'll have JARVIS put out the usual searches and see if he comes up with anything. If there's any sign of Dean cropping up anywhere, he'll find it. Make sure you let him know if you guys are using any new aliases. That'll make it easier for him to monitor things.”

That was... that was something Sam could do. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Tony drew his hand back, and there was a crinkling sound before a bandage was being pressed over where he'd just been cleaning. “Once you've had some breakfast, we'll sit down, and you can let me know what happened, and we'll build a plan to go from there.”

Licking his lips, Sam gave a small nod. He could do that. “Okay.”

“You wanna have breakfast up here? I'm sure someone would bring stuff up for us and drop it off. You don't have to come out of the bathroom till after their gone, either.” Tony's hand settled on Sam's shoulder, a warm and steady weight that helped ground Sam.

It was that touch that let Sam find the strength to shake his head. He wasn't going to just spend his time hiding up here in Tony's rooms. Without opening his eyes, he asked: “Do they know?”

“Gave 'em the Intro to Weird Shit last night. They've got a basic understanding now.”

 _Intro to Weird Shit_. That made Sam's lips twitch just a little. _Only Tony._ “You trust 'em?”

“With my life,” Tony answered immediately. Then he gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze. “With you? Well, we'll see, I guess.”

Sam let out a shaky, slightly choked laugh. That was so perfectly Tony. He trusted these people with himself - let them live in his home, watch his back out in the field - but when it came to Sam, he was a whole lot more protective. Very few people over the years had been trusted with the knowledge that Sam even existed. Trusting them with more than that, well, Tony would make them earn it.

How on earth had he gotten so lucky as to have two brothers in his life who loved him so much? Sam turned his head and briefly pressed his cheek against Tony's hand. He had no idea how he'd managed it, especially after all he'd done, but he was going to be selfish enough to not question it.

* * *

Sam felt just a bit more human when Tony dragged him down to what he told him was the communal floor of the tower. Not perfect, no, but there was always something about being in Tony's presence that made it hard for Sam not to feel at least a little better. Tony just had a way about him of bringing the people in the room with him up just a little. That is if he wasn't in the mood to knock them down.

He followed Tony off the elevator and into the main part of this floor. Some part of Sam - the hunter in him - took notice of all the windows, doors, entrances and exits, and everybody that was in the room. That was instinct and habit both. The rest of him mostly took notice of just how many people were in the room. People that he was going to have to interact with. Talk to. Why did that seem so exhausting?

As if sensing his thoughts, Tony slung an arm around Sam's waist and drew him in close until Sam instinctively put his arm around Tony's shoulders. That was how Sam found himself meeting the other Avengers; wrapped up in Tony's hold, practically leaning on the older man. _Talk about a really great first impression_.

Tony didn't seem bothered by it, of course. Then again, as the years had gone by he'd gotten less and less flustered by contact between them, until they'd reached the point now where Sam knew Tony couldn't really care less. Especially not when with friends like this. For them, Tony grinned broadly and tugged Sam right up to them all where half of them were gathered in the living room, with only one of them over in the kitchen.

Still beaming, Tony pulled Sam in even closer as he led him up to the guy closest to him - Captain Steve Rogers. Steve rose to his feet when the two reached him, and he had a small smile on his lips that looked like a watered down version of Tony's press smile.

It didn't affect Tony's smile at all. “C'mon, puppy, come meet our fearless leader. This is Captain America, the one in charge of herding this giant group of idiots.”

“You're included in that,” Steve said dryly. Then he turned his smile to Sam and held his hand out. “Steve Rogers. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Sam summoned up a smile of his own. He might not have lived in front of the press, but he'd long ago perfected the art of putting on masks. There wasn't a crack in his as he smiled at Steve and reached out to shake his hand. “I'm Sam. It's nice to meet you too, Captain. I've heard a lot about you.”

The look Steve gave Tony was amused with a hint of mock-worry at the edges. “I'm suddenly very worried.”

“Don't be.” Sam drew his hand back and stuffed it down into his pocket. “JARVIS has nice things to say about all you guys.”

That earned him an elbow from Tony and a loud “Hey!” His big brother turned to glare up at him, though the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes showed the smile hiding underneath. “I say nice things!”

Raising his eyebrows, Sam pulled an innocent expression. “Do you?”

Tony laughed and used his hip to bump Sam. Amusement sparkled in his eyes, and the grin he wore was enough to tug an almost-real smile from Sam. “You're such a little shit sometimes.” There was nothing but fondness in his voice, though. Hearing it stole Sam's voice and left him just a bit choked up. How on earth had he gotten so lucky as to have two amazing big brothers?

His introspection was cut off by a voice that Sam recognized, though he didn't place it. Not at first. “I'll be damned,” the voice said. Sam was turning towards the voice even as it said his name, “Sam?”

It only took a second after that for Sam to place that voice. The instant his eyes landed on the person speaking, everything clicked into place, and Sam's masks fell away to an expression of surprise. “ _Clint_?”

The very same guy that Sam had spent an amazing night with before everything went wrong was sitting here on the tabletop in Tony's tower. Clint was actually _on_ the table, and he was grinning at Sam like it was a great surprise to see him here. The guy looked just as good as Sam remembered him. Same bright eyes, same blinding smile, same easy charm written all over him.

Almost against his will, Sam found himself starting to smile as well. Just a tiny one, but it was more than he'd worn in a while. “You're Hawkeye.”

“And you're a Stark,” Clint shot back. He didn't look upset, though. If anything, he looked amused. There was none of that awkwardness that Sam had seen happen when Dean ran into one of his one-night-stands. Clint looked like he was genuinely amused and _happy_ to see Sam there.

Tony, however, looked suspicious. “How do you two know each other?”

“We met in a bar.” The way that Clint waggled his eyebrows when he said that, plus the blush that stained Sam's cheeks, made the meaning behind it clear. There was some muffled laughter, especially at Tony's stunned expression, and their Captain looked like he was starting to blush as well as he realized what Clint meant.

Then Tony spun to look up at Sam. To the others, he might've actually looked mad. Judging by the way some of them tensed a little, they really thought he was. Sam knew better. He didn't flinch at the glare that Tony sent his way. “Really, Sam? _Really_? You slept with _him_? All the people in the world and it had to be one of my coworkers!”

“What can I say?” A hint of Sam's usual cheeky side showed through, though the blush stayed in his cheeks. “He has a way with words.”

Just as he'd expected, that had Clint laughing. No, _cackling_. The archer clearly remembered his pickup lines just as clearly as Sam did. They hadn't been what anyone would consider impressive. They had, however, been different, and they'd made Sam laugh. Sometimes that counted more than anything else. Sam hadn't ever really needed smooth lines. He'd seen Dean pull those out often enough to know how untrue some of that could really be. Clint's goofy, cheesy side had been funny, and finding someone who made him laugh was a lot more meaningful to Sam than anything else.

“Something tells me I really don't want to know,” said the red-haired woman near him in a dry, slightly mocking voice. She rolled her eyes at her friend and then brought her focus up to Sam. The way she was looking at him was almost enough to make him want to squirm. It reminded him of Castiel a little, actually. She was looking at Sam like she could see straight down to his soul and read everything there was to know about him from there. The rest of her face was set in a kind mask, open and friendly, meant to draw a person in, but her eyes... her eyes gave her away. “I'm Natasha. It's nice to meet someone who's capable of putting up with this one for any period of time.”

Ah. So that's who she was. Sam had heard about her. About her time as Natalie, working for Tony, and about what came after. Tony was happy to have her on the team, and he seemed to be trusting her a little more with each passing day, but Sam wasn't quite sure how he felt. He knew he tended to trust far too easily, but that was when it came to himself. When it came to Tony? Well... Sam was just a little less trusting. Far too many people took advantage of Tony's softer side. Someone had to look out for him.

Sam's tone wasn't rude, but it was definitely cooler when he smiled at her and said, “It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.”

His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, or by Clint. Or Tony, really. His brother and the two spies were the ones in the room who were capable of reading beyond the surface.

The look that Tony slanted his way was a warning to _be nice_. He didn't call Sam out on it, though. He just moved on and tugged Sam over towards the counter where the last man was waiting, slightly hunched in on himself like he was trying to hide. It was a pose Sam was familiar with; he'd used it often enough himself. It worked better for this guy, though. He was naturally smaller than Sam.

Tony tugged Sam up and _beamed_ at the guy, though. “And this guy right here is Dr. Bruce Banner, my favorite Science Bro.”

Logic had told Sam that's who this had to be. He was the only one left. He was also the one that Sam really had wanted to meet. Tony talked about him a lot, and it seemed like the two had gotten close since the Avengers had all moved in. Judging by past talks, this guy was the one that seemed to understand and appreciate Tony the best.

There was a noticeable shift in Sam's expression as it turned much warmer. “It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Dr. Banner. Tony's told me plenty about you. Both parts of you.” Bringing up Bruce's other half was a deliberate move, acknowledging what he imagined people tended to skirt around. Sam's next words were just as deliberate. “I'm glad to know he's got someone here willing to look out for him when I'm not around. He doesn't always make it easy.”

“Oh, well,” Bruce looked flustered, torn between embarrassed and a tiny bit pleased. But there was humor in his eyes as well as they slanted towards Tony. “He doesn't make it easy, but someone's got to do it.”

“Aren't you two hilarious?” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

In the back of Sam's mind, he could hear an echo of Dean's voice. _I think I'm adorable_. Sam couldn't help but wince a little.

The little twitch in his expression didn't go unnoticed by his brother. Tony didn't call him out on it, though. He just tugged on Sam and brought the younger Winchester's attention firmly back to him. “All right. Enough intros. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm hungry, and I've got a puppy to feed!”


	4. Chapter 4

The morning was going just about how Tony expected it to. Which, really, wasn't that glowing of a review. He'd seen Sam depressed enough times before to recognize the signs of it now. Unfortunately, Tony had encountered it enough during the years to have also built up a few tricks on how to deal with it. Sam's recent bout with insanity and hallucinations had only given Tony more practice and skills.

Getting Sam to eat was one of the biggest things. Anytime something went wrong with the kid, food fell by the wayside. Which, really, was the last thing he needed. Sam was way too good at forgetting to eat on a case as it was. Deliberately skipping meals? Yeah, _no_.

That was why Tony set about drawing everyone into conversation through breakfast by entertaining them with stories from his and Sam's past. They were stories that Sam could interject in. Debates they'd had for years that the kid never failed to try and laughingly argue his point on. Or stories that he made a point to tell wrong just so Sam would speak up. The more he got Sam involved in the conversation, the easier it was for Tony to nudge his elbow and get Sam to absently take a bite.

It worked well enough. Though Sam didn't eat near as much as Tony would've liked, he ate about half his plate, and that was better than Tony had been expecting. And, bonus - he didn't look like he was going to throw it all up, either. That'd been a problem for a while, he knew, though the medication the mental facility had started him on was supposed to help with that.

Thinking of Sam's medication had Tony pausing. He didn't remember Sam taking any this morning. If he remembered right - and of course he did, he'd memorized everything that had been in Sam's files at that place, including the medications and all their directions - Sam was supposed to take some in the morning, and some at night. Tony made a mental note to bring that up later. Medication wasn't the answer to everything, but it could help, and Sam needed all the help he could get with all the shit inside his head.

By the time they were done eating, the tension that had vanished during the introductions had started to creep its way back in. Sam was definitely a tense line next to Tony. He knew as well as Tony did that the others were going to have questions.

Tony was a little pleased by the fact that, after everyone took their plates to the sink and came back over with fresh coffee to sit at the table, Clint moved his seat and took the one on Sam's other side. The night those two had apparently shared - and oh, Tony was going to have so much fun teasing Sam about that later and drawing out _all_ the details! - seemed to be enough to have Clint willing to appear on Sam's side. Even just a little. Then again, it could've just been a spy move to make Sam more at ease by surrounding him with people he knew. It was hard to tell with their resident spies.

No one had to even ask any questions. Sam settled into his seat and cradled his large mug, which Tony kept specially for him - and now Thor - between his hands. Then he took a deep breath and started to speak. “So, I heard JARVIS gave you guys the rundown on the basic supernatural stuff.”

It was Steve who answered him. “He did. It's a little... hard to believe.”

One corner of Sam's mouth quirked up. “Some people would say a man surviving frozen in ice would be a little hard to believe. Or Norse alien gods.” Any hint of a smile wiped off of Sam's face. In an instant, he looked so much older than his physical age.

Tony ignored the weird looks it got him, and he reached out to rest his hand on the back of Sam's neck. It was one of his safe-touching spots that didn't trigger him and offered a little comfort.

Sam shot him a brief, grateful look. Then his gaze turned back down to his cup. “I know it's a lot to take in. I'm, uh, I've grown up in the life. I didn't know until I was close to ten, but the supernatural, it's always been a part of my life. My Dad was a hunter, and I spent my childhood traveling across the US with him and my brother.”

“Your Dad took you guys around the country to hunt the supernatural?” Bruce asked. He looked upset at the idea. Tony couldn't blame it. It heated his blood each time he thought about tiny little Winchesters being left in motel rooms.

“Yeah.” Sam shrugged that part off. To him, it was life, and he'd come a long way from the bitter college student Tony had first met. Still, it wasn't easy for him to say the next words, and Tony caught a glimpse of the grief that passed through his eyes before it was hidden behind his mask. “A demon came into my bedroom when I was six months old and killed my mom. It got Dad into the life, and I grew up with us hunting for that bastard and taking out anything supernatural along the way. I got out for a while, went to college, but after the demon killed my girlfriend, I was right back in the life.”

“Jesus,” Steve whispered.

Sam didn't seem to hear him. He was still staring down at his coffee mug. “There's a lot of crap that we went through over the years. We finally killed the demon that killed Mom and Jess, but it had a huge cost, and it set off another round of shit.”

“Sam,” Tony squeezed lightly on Sam's neck, drawing his little brother's eyes to him. “You don't have to tell them this. They don't need to know.”

Even as Tony said it, Sam shook his head. “They need some background to understand what's going on now, Tone.”

“They know about the Apocalypse, angels, vessels, crap like that. We don't have to talk about it.”

The way that Sam smiled at him, so sad and so gentle, broke Tony's heart a little. He reached one hand up and curled it briefly over Tony's arm. In that touch and his look was a clear 'I'm okay' that Tony didn't believe, but couldn't argue with.

When Sam let go, he was a little bit steadier. This time he didn't hide his face when he turned back to look at the silent people around the tale. “JARVIS told you guys about the Apocalypse?”

“Some of it,” Clint answered him, voice as casual and easy as if they were discussing the weather. Not the _Apocalypse_. “He said angels possess people too, cause their True Forms would kill us to see, but their vessels have to say yes to let them in, and that Michael and Lucifer needed to get their vessels to be able to fight.”

“They could fight without them,” Sam said. “They had backups. But archangels are more powerful. They need a True Vessel to survive without burning up the one they're in.”

Natasha, of course, understood immediately. “You and Dean were vessels.”

Sam nodded. “Dean was Michael's. I was Lucifer's.” A little shiver ran down Sam's body. He pressed back into Tony's hand at the same time that he moved his own hands so he could press his thumb into the opposite palm. A reminder this was real. He was free. “It took a lot, but we managed to... we managed to trap both of them back down in Lucifer's Cage. We stopped the Apocalypse. But Heaven... it fell into a sort of anarchy after that. They had their own version of a Civil War, and it was going bad...”

There was nothing Tony could do but sit there at Sam's side and keep a hand on his neck as Sam walked the Avengers through the basics of what came next. How Castiel broke into Purgatory for the souls - since souls were power - and how he'd taken in something more. Something stronger. How the Leviathan had been released on the earth.

Not once did Sam mention his own sacrifices here. He didn't mention his time in the Cage, or how he'd slowly gone crazy, or how Castiel had been the one to break down the wall in his head and break apart his head.

Then he reached the part that Tony didn't know about. The part that happened after Sam got out of the hospital.

“We finally had a weapon that would take out the head Levi. Only it... it did something more. When they stabbed him, there was... there was this explosion and...” Sam paused, visibly swallowing down the lump in his throat. His hands tightened on each other while his eyes dropped downwards. “Afterwards, they were all just gone. No bodies, no blood, nothing. They were just... gone. All three of them. And then Crowley showed up and he, he took Kevin, and I was just... I was alone.” Again, softer this time. “I was alone.”

That was it. Tony didn't give a damn what the others had to say or what they thought about this. He didn't even care if it embarrassed Sam. Dean being around had never stopped Tony from offering comfort - the Avengers being here wouldn't, either.

Tony used his hold on Sam's neck to tug the kid over towards him. It was a sign of how bad Sam truly felt when he didn't fight it, just leaned in and let Tony pull him close. With his free hand, Tony caught Sam's face and tugged it up so that there was no way Sam was going to look at anything other than him. Eye contact had always been important before; post-hell, it was essential in getting his point across.

“Hey, you listen here, pipsqueak.” Tony firmed his hand so that there was no way Sam was going to be able to look away. He didn't want the kid taking note of the others around them and getting embarrassed. Tony held his face and kept him there to make sure Sam knew just how serious he was. “You are not alone, you hear me? Maybe you were then – and you damn well should have called me out there right after that shit happened – but you're not alone now, you hear me? You got J and me, an we're sure as hell not gonna let you go. You're stuck with us.”

Far too conscious of the others in the room, there was no way Sam was going to say all the words that were in his head right then. He didn't have to, though. The way he looked up at Tony with that big, adoring, puppy face of his, spoke clearer than any words. Still, Sam did murmur a soft “Thanks, Tone.”

Tony grinned and patted Sam's cheek. “You're family, kiddo. That's what family does. Now!” With one last clap to Sam's cheek, he let go of the kid's face, but he kept his hand on Sam's neck while turning back to the others. Tony deliberately ignored any looks he was getting for that rather intimate moment. With a bright grin, Tony leaned himself in against Sam's shoulder. “All right then. So, you guys have the scoop now on why my puppy's here. Now, you're more than welcome to piss right off to your own floors and stay out of the way, _or_ you can stick around and help us try and figure out how we're going to get Dean back.”

The way that Sam’s head snapped up and towards Tony was sort of heartbreaking. “Get him back?” Sam repeated the words slowly, with an underlying edge of hope that sounded like it'd been pushed away far too much lately. “Do you really...?”

Tony bumped their shoulders together. “It's like you said, kid. No body. I've learned with you guys that no body is usually a pretty good sign you might still be alive. I'm not giving up hope, and neither should you. However, I know your asshole of a brother, and if there's one thing I know about him, it's that he can take care of himself. Your prophet, on the other hand - not so much. So, we should probably try and figure out how to get him back from Crowley first, don't you think?”

There was a familiar light building in Sam's eyes. One that made Tony's heart lift just to see. Depression wasn't something that could be so easily won over, Tony knew, but he'd just given Sam some of the tools necessary to try and start to fight it instead of just being stuck underneath it. If he could get Sam focused on some things he _could_ do, it'd help distract him away from the things he _couldn't_. It'd also give Tony time to get a good support system built up around the kid so that there'd be a safety net there to catch him just in case they ended up wrong and Dean really was gone.

Tony built plan after plan in the back of his mind while he sat there. All of which had ways to make sure his little brother was going to be taken care of.

At the same time, he flashed his grin at his brother and his teammates, and he asked them “Okay! So, who wants to help us hunt down a demon and steal back a Prophet of the Lord?”

* * *

Tony's question had definitely stirred up the room. The others were more than willing to help, to Sam's surprise. It was just... they didn't know what they were doing. Taking civilians onto a hunt like this was never a smart plan. It didn't matter how trained they were in other ways. None of them were trained like _this_. Hell, not even _Tony_ was trained like this. But he at least had a step up from the others. He had a supernatural-resistant suit.

It took a little bit of work, but Sam managed to convince the others that planning for a hunt right now wasn't necessary. “Take some time, process what you've learned,” Sam told them gently. “Tony told me he gave permission for JARVIS to answer questions, and JARVIS said he's more than willing to do it. Ask him what you need to, try and get your head around some of this. If you've got more questions later, I'll be happy to answer them. But, for now... for now, don't worry about the rest of this.”

“We can help,” Steve tried to insist.

The smile Sam gave him held the weight of years behind it. “I appreciate that, Captain. I really do. I just... I can't afford to take civilians along on this.” He saw Steve's protests building and hurried to speak before he could. “I know that you all are extremely skilled people. I get that. More skilled than the rest of the world, in a whole lot of ways. But you just found out about all this _last night_. Give it time to process before you throw yourself into a hunt. Especially one against demons.”

There were no arguments for that. When Sam followed after Tony to head to his workshop so they could plan and prepare, the only Avenger that followed them was Bruce, and that was solely for the science aspect of this. He and Tony were already babbling together about the scientific aspect of the supernatural and what quantifiable proof Tony had managed to gain over the years.

Sam left them to it the minute they entered the workshop. He was just as comfortable here as he was anywhere else that Tony had been.

He missed the surprised look that Bruce shot his way when Sam strolled over towards the section of the room where he usually set up, clearly at home here. Sam was too busy focusing on the desk and computer set-up that Tony had put in here just for him. When Sam sank down into the comfortable chair, the computers were already booting on. A soft smile curved Sam's lips. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Of course, Young Sir. However I might be of assistance, you need only ask.”

“Thanks.” Sam's smile was wide enough to crinkle his eyes. It felt good to sit here in Tony's workshop. To hear Tony's voice nearby, rambling about something or other to Bruce. To hear JARVIS occasionally interject when Tony asked something.

Being in here spoke a lot more of home to Sam than even anywhere else in the tower. This was where Tony spent his most time. It was the place that carried Tony's touch the most. And for Sam, home had always been more a _person_ than a _place_. Wherever Tony was, that was home.

Here in the comfort of this place, Sam sat back in his chair and stared at the computers in front of him. Tony was right. They needed to get Kevin back. If Dean were still... still alive out there somewhere... he'd be able to hold his own a whole lot better than Kevin would. They needed to bring Kevin back.

Only, how to find him...

Crowley had taken him. Logic said that finding Crowley would be the best way to go about this. Unfortunately, Crowley wasn't always easy to locate. He was probably assuming that Sam was going to be too devastated to do much. Honestly, if it weren't for Tony, he'd be right. But Tony had straightened Sam's head out a little and pointed him in the right direction.

So, first step. Sam needed to figure out some sort of way to track down Crowley. “JARVIS, do you still have that algorithm that you and Tony made to track demonic activity?” They'd made it back when Sam and Dean had still been hunting Yellow Eyes.

In response, JARVIS pulled up a hologram map of the US in front of Sam. “I've been running it since your story upstairs, Young Sir. This is what I've been able to gather so far.”

On the map were tons upon tons of red dots. Signs of demonic activity. _Great_. Seeing it all laid out like that was... stunning. “There's more demons topside than I realized.” How was he going to narrow this down to find just _one_ annoying demon in the mix of so many others? “You track demonic signs, right? Not actual energy signatures or anything like that.”

“Correct.”

“M’kay.” Leaning in, Sam studied the map. Maybe he could narrow down some of the places they were going to look. “Crowley wants Kevin for a purpose. That means he's not just taking him to kill him. So, he'll be topside with him. Probably with some guards, too. He won't want to take the chances of hunters getting in the way of things. Um... Crowley's the type to like the big city fun. Penthouses, money, booze, things like that. But he's proved before he'll hide out in a shack if he needs to.” Where would he take Kevin, though? Would he risk taking him into a city where there was a chance they might be spotted, and word might travel?

No. Crowley was too smart for that. He'd know anyone looking for him would look in a city, and he'd know that he'd risk being seen there. The last thing Crowley was going to want was anyone trying to take Kevin away.

“Can you take out the marks around any major cities please, JARVIS?”

That only took away about half of them. Sam rubbed absently at his palm while staring up at the map. There were still a lot of dots to work their way through. “That's a lot of demons.” Sifting through it all would take time, and in that time, there was every chance that Crowley would move. Then Sam would have to start all over again.

“Have you thought about tracking Kevin instead?”

The sound of Tony's voice suddenly right there next to him was enough to have Sam jumping. He spun to face his brother, an angry retort already building on his lips, only for Tony's words to sink in. Sam didn't even take notice of Bruce standing behind and to the side of Tony. His own focus was on what Tony had just said. Furrowing his brows, he looked up at Tony. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe a locator spell?”

Sam grimaced before he could stop himself. The idea of doing a spell... he knew what Dean's reaction to that would be. Just as he knew, when he snuck a look up at Tony's face, what kind of reaction his other brother was going to have right now. The scowl that Tony was wearing made that clear.

He wasn't surprised by the low, “ _Sam_.”

“What?” Sam asked defensively, still refusing to look up at Tony.

A low, heavy sigh came from Tony. Then one of his hands settled on Sam's head. “We've talked about this, kiddo. What have I said? Just because Dean doesn't like something...”

The way that Tony trailed off left it clear he was waiting for Sam to fill in the rest of the sentence. Grimacing again, Sam shifted around in his seat. “...doesn't make it bad,” he finished, voice low.

The hand on his head patted him. “Exactly. Good boy.” He laughed when Sam swiped at him for that. Tony was still grinning when he leaned his hip in against Sam's shoulder. “So! As I've reminded you, just because Dean gets pissy about spells and such, that doesn't mean we can't use them. Hell, _I'll_ do it. That way you can claim innocence about the whole thing.”

He'd do it, too. Tony would more than happily take the blame for something like that just so Sam wouldn't have to. Which was exactly the reason that Sam would never, ever let him. “You just stick to building things, Tone. Leave the spellwork to me. I'm sure your friends would prefer not to have the tower set on fire. Or exploded.”

A grin flashed across Tony's face. He bumped Sam with his hip and chuckled. “You act like that'd be different than any other day of the week.”

Sam shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You're a menace.” There was love in those words that he knew Tony would hear.

“Oh, but baby, I'm the best kind of fun!”

* * *

There were plenty of different tracking spells that Sam could use for this. Almost all of them required certain ingredients, though. Ones that Sam didn't just have on him, or in the Impala. Tony convinced him that holding off for a few days would be fine, and it'd give them time to be able to find what they needed. “Plus,” he said slowly, “I might know someone who can help out.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

He didn't miss the quick look that Tony darted Bruce's way. It set all of Sam's internal alarms off. “I'll...” Pausing, Tony looked at Sam's face and sighed. “Right. No bullshit?” His lips twitched a little. “I'm dating someone new.”

That revelation had Sam's eyebrows shooting up in surprise. There were at least a thousand different questions that Sam wanted to ask; if Bruce hadn't been there, he probably would have. But Sam wasn't going to call Tony out like that in front of his friend. No matter how close they were. That kind of conversation was personal, and it could wait until they were alone to have it. For now, Sam settled on saying, “I'm a little scared to ask what that has to do with us performing a tracking spell.”

“Sir,” JARVIS cut it, and Sam almost wanted to chuckle at the relief that crossed Tony's face from the rather timely interruption. However, any desire to laugh was wiped away when JARVIS said, “Master Loki and his brother have returned to the tower,” and any relief on Tony's face faded away. Okay, so, that wasn't a good sign.

Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“Tone?” Sam took a hesitant step forward, not quite sure what was going on here or what he should do.

When Tony dropped his hand down, he didn't look worried anymore, though he did look slightly... resigned? “You're one of the few people in my life I can't bullshit, kiddo. You're also the last person I want to lie to.” With the air of someone about to say something they knew wasn't going to go over well, Tony straightened himself and squared his shoulders before he met Sam's eyes. “I'm dating Loki.”

Neither man noticed as Bruce slipped away from them. He headed quietly out of the room, intent on giving the two men privacy.

Sam was too busy staring at Tony to notice. Had he heard that right? Tony was dating - he was dating _Loki_?

The first place Sam's mind went to was the Loki that _he'd_ known. The one that had died. There was no way that Tony was talking about that Loki. He knew the truth - he would've called him Gabriel. That meant that Tony had to be talking about the _other_ Loki. “You're dating... the guy who tried to take over the planet?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds terrible,” Tony joked. At the dry look Sam shot him, he held up his hands. “Okay, okay! Sheesh. No appreciation for humor. Yes, I'm dating that Loki, but no, he didn't try to take over the planet. Not really.”

“How does someone 'not really' try and take over a planet?”

“When they're being mostly mind-controlled by someone a whole lot bigger and badder than just about anything I've ever come across. Something I think might give your angels a run for their money.”

The bottom dropped out of Sam's stomach that those words. For Tony to say them - Tony, who knew better than just about anyone out there just how bad angels really could be - implied quite a bit about whoever this bad guy was. It also put a completely different spin on Loki's involvement in things.

Sam had seen the news stories, but he'd also heard Tony's accounts afterward, and he'd seen the original data JARVIS had on the alien being. They'd studied Loki back when they were trying to figure out if he was really a pagan god or what. In the end, it'd been Thor who gave them the answer, albeit it unwittingly. He'd told Tony about the time his people came to Earth, all the worshipers they'd built up in that time as _gods_ to these people - and then they'd left.

What happened next wasn't hard for Sam to fill in. They'd encountered tulpas before, after all. It was no wonder the pagans had been created. They were brought into existence by the faith of their followers, and then they grew from there, eventually gaining enough power to actually evolve into demigods instead of just tulpas, taking on lives of their own. Gabriel had taken advantage of that when he'd come down to earth to hide.

This Loki - this was the _actual_ Loki. One who Tony was saying had been mind controlled into doing this.

If that were the case, if Tony really believed that, there was no way Sam could judge him for what he'd done. Mind control was just the same as being possessed. Someone else was in control of your actions. “You have proof?” Sam had to ask. He had to - just to be sure.

Tony was already nodding vigorously. “We've got tons and tons of proof. Enough that we were able to get SHIELD to back off, and Thor was able to get the All-Daddy up in the sky to drop his charges, too.”

Okay, that sounded like some pretty serious proof. Sam took a deep breath and blew it back out carefully. He trusted Tony. If Tony was sure about this, that he was innocent, Sam was going to trust that. He chose to focus on the next thing - the most important one. “He treats you well?” There was nothing more important than that. Pepper, for all that she'd loved Tony, well, it'd been a concern of Sam's right from the get-go that she might not be able to love all parts of him. That Iron Man might become too much for her. She'd tried to treat him well.

The warmth on Tony's face when he smiled was answer enough. Sam didn't need to hear the words; though they did ease something inside him. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. He spoils me, actually. Though he's not afraid to let me know when I'm being an idiot, either.”

“Good.” Sam smiled. Tony deserved someone like that. He deserved someone who would spoil him, and treat him well, and still verbally kick his ass when needed.

“I think you'll like him, puppy. He's a good guy... sometimes.”

That drew a laugh out of Sam. “Sounds perfect for you. Why don't we go upstairs and you introduce us, and I can get the chance to see for myself?”

“Just keep the embarrassing stories to a minimum!” Tony warned him, pointing a finger at him.

Sam snorted as he took off for the elevator. “You wish!”


	5. Chapter 5

If Sam had hoped to at least have a bit of privacy while he met his brother's new boyfriend, those hopes were quickly dashed. The elevator brought them to the communal floor where everyone else was already gathered and chatting away. It seemed like they did a lot of things here as a group. Sam had taken note of that just from his phone calls with Tony. There wasn't a lot these guys seemed to do alone.

Even as Tony and Sam stepped out of the elevator, Sam's eyes were scanning the room and easily finding the two strangers there. One of them was a tall, muscular blonde wearing armor and a cape that pretty much gave away who he was. He was laughing loudly at something Steve had said and wasn't paying any attention to the two newcomers. However, the same couldn't be said for his companion.

Loki was tall and slender; a lean frame packed into well-tailored black suit pants and a dark green silk shirt. His hair was slicked back, the ends curling ever so slightly near his ears, and his green eyes had found Tony the instant he was out of the elevator. Sam didn't miss the way that cool gaze softened as it ran over Tony, or how it turned cooler and a bit questioning when it focused on Sam.

Either oblivious to the undercurrents in the air or choosing to ignore it - with Tony, the latter was far more likely - Tony grabbed hold of Sam's arm and dragged him straight towards the two Asgardians.

“Lokes!” With his usual lack of shame, Tony held on to Sam's arm and kept him in place even as he practically flung himself at his boyfriend. Loki easily caught Tony against him in a way that suggested this wasn't the first time he'd done this. Sam rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away while the two shared a 'welcome home' kiss that bordered on obscene.

As soon as he looked away, he was greeted with Thor's bright, grinning face. “You must be Samuel!”

The man stepped up and held his arms out as if he was going in for a hug, and oh no, no way. Sam took a few quick steps backward without thinking about it. It sent him stumbling into Tony, who grunted and pushed back, almost knocking Sam right back into Thor. Luckily, Sam was pretty good at keeping his balance while being shoved around, and he planted his right foot and pivoted halfway through the shove, neatly twisting himself so that he was out of that tiny space between them all and a safe enough distance that he wasn't at risk of being pushed or hugged. Once there, he took a quick step back, adding just a bit more safe distance.

While Thor looked confused, and Loki amused, Tony openly grinned at him. “Smooth moves there, puppy.”

Sam shot him a look that let him know just how little he found Tony funny. “The next time you want to climb on your partner, maybe try _letting go of me_ first?”

“Where's the fun in that?” Tony asked cheekily.

Though Sam rolled his eyes, his lips curved up just the slightest bit. “Asshole.”

Everyone in the room laughed when Tony leapt from Loki over to Sam and wrapped his arms around his neck, yanking Sam down so he could press a loud, smacking kiss on Sam's cheek. “Aw, puppy! I love you too!”

There was no way Sam could do anything but laugh. “Get off me, you giant dork!” Chuckling, he shoved at Tony and ducked down, breaking free from the older man's arms. Tony reached for him again, and Sam smacked his hands away. “Why did I come here again? You're such a pain in the ass!”

“Cause you love me?” Tony reached for him again and laughed when he was swatted away.

Off to the side, Steve gave a low “Oh yeah, they're definitely brothers.”

The two men chuckled as Tony finally strode up and bumped his shoulder against Sam's arm before catching hold of him by the elbow and pulling him forward. “Come on, quit beating me up and come meet my Loki.”

Sam let himself be tugged right back towards Loki. The god was standing there smirking at the two of them. He didn't look annoyed by Tony's ridiculousness, or bothered by the way he was with Sam, or any of it. That was a point in Loki's favor already. The way he looked at Tony and smiled, really smiled, was another.

For his part, Tony was beaming, looking like some proud parent as they came to a stop in front of his partner. “Loki, meet my little brother, Sam. Pup, this is Loki.”

Loki let his eyes run over Sam again, this time assessing him a whole lot more openly. When his eyes landed on Sam's face, they looked curious. Appraising. “You’re not quite what I was expecting,” Loki told him.

Unable to help himself, Sam’s lips twitched with the urge to smile. “What were you expecting?”

“Something a little more human.”

All at once multiple voices were shouting all around them. Most of them seemed to be Loki's name, though Natasha seemed to have gone tense, and Steve was suspiciously watching Sam now. It was Tony, however, who sounded the angriest, though he didn't raise his voice the loudest. “ _Loki_.”

Sam wasn’t bothered, though. He couldn’t help the small flinch that he gave, but the hurt was pushed down, barely even noticed. Something told him that Loki didn’t quite mean it the way that someone else might. Keeping his hands in his pockets, Sam watched the being in front of him carefully, trying to read his face. “I technically haven’t been that since I was six months old.”

“You’re far beyond that, now.” Loki tilted his head, studying Sam just as openly as Sam was studying him.

Those words struck even harder than the last. His lack of humanity, Sam had long since come to terms with, though he didn't like it. But the way Loki had said that last bit left it clear that he knew Sam was far older than he looked. How could he tell? Could he - could he see Sam's soul? There were creatures out there that could, he knew. Were these alien beings one of them?

Sam's thoughts were interrupted when he felt Tony let go of him and saw him move as if he was going to step between them, mouth already open to voice his protests. All it took was Sam holding up a hand to get him to stop. “It’s fine, Tony.”

“Sam.”  There were layers to Sam’s name. So many different things he was asking with just that single word. It never failed to amaze Sam that he’d managed to end up with two brothers who could tell him so many things just by saying his name. Was it just a skill big brothers possessed?

Sam shook his head and lowered his hand. “It’s fine,” he repeated. His eyes went back to Loki, who had his head tilted in a look that was more curious than it had been before. “You’re not wrong. I might look human, but I’m not. Not entirely. Then again, you’d understand that, wouldn’t you? You’re not exactly what you look like, either.”

The slight flinch around Loki’s eyes was the only thing that gave away that Sam’s barb hit home. Otherwise, his face remained calm. Thor’s, however, grew tight, and he looked ready to step in as well. This time it was Loki who held up a hand to stop _his_ brother from interfering. Everyone was watching as the two faced off against one another.

When Loki let his hand drop again, he didn’t speak at first. He just stared at Sam for a moment before giving a small nod. “I like you,” he announced, and a tiny smile ghosted over his lips. “Not many mortals manage that. You’re not quite what I was expecting.”

“I get that a lot.” Sam’s lips were curving just a little now. He was surprised to find himself liking Loki as well. He hadn’t been entirely sure that he would. Then again, that could’ve been colored by his experiences with the _last_ Loki he’d met. Thinking of that made Sam’s smile finally show. “You’re not quite what I was expecting, either. The last Loki I met was a bit more…”

“…amusing?” Loki filled in, outright smirking now.

Sam chuckled. “That’s one word for him. Not exactly the one I’d pick, really.”

“No, I don’t imagine you would. Anthony told me you were a hunter. I can’t imagine you met him under the best of circumstances.”

“Yeah, no.” At that, Sam had to laugh. “The first time I met him, he’d had a Professor thrown out a window, had an alligator eat someone in a sewer, and had a frat boy get abducted by aliens and forced to slow dance with them.”

There were quite a few sounds of confusion and a general air of ‘what the hell.’ Meanwhile, Tony was chuckling, and Loki was grinning now. “Yes, that sounds like him. He had a marvelous sense of humor.”

“You liked him,” Sam said. He watched Loki inclined his head slightly as if to say, of course. The way his smile faded and his eyes darkened left no doubt that Loki knew what had happened to him, or at least that he was gone. Guilt ate at Sam’s stomach, wiping away his enjoyment of the moment. “I’m sorry.”

Loki opened his mouth as if to say something, to brush off his apology, only to stop himself. His eyes narrowed and sharpened a little in a way that made Sam feel like a bug under a microscope. The mage was staring at him now with an intensity that hadn’t been present before. Not even when they’d first sized each other up. A second later, Sam found out why. “Sam. You are Sam _Winchester_.”

The way he said ‘Winchester’ was something that Sam was far too familiar with. It was that hint of something dangerous that entered the tone of almost every supernatural being out there. The one that said that he knew who Sam was; knew the Winchester reputation. And Sam was willing to bet this being knew a lot more than most out there would. There was a flash of temper in those green eyes that made Sam want to draw back.

Whatever companionable air they’d found before was gone now. The aura of threat was back, stronger than ever, and Sam could see the others responding to it. Thor was watching him with a sharp gaze, moving to stand protectively at his brother’s side, and Tony was moving as if to do the same, heading straight for Sam. “Woah, woah, woah, let’s just everyone calm down here, all right?” Tony said, hands held out in a gesture for peace.

Loki’s lip curled up in a sneer. “You did not tell me your _brother_ was a _Winchester_.”

“You know him?” Steve asked, moving up to stand on Sam’s other side.

The hunter felt boxed in, and it made his gut clench even as his body braced in preparation. He was surrounded by strong beings right now. Superhumans and two gods. It wasn’t the _worst_ situation he’d ever been in, but it didn’t bode well for him.

“Everyone with any sense of intelligence knows the Winchesters,” Loki snarled out. “Sam Winchester, the boy who almost ended the world. He set Lucifer free and almost doomed all of our existence. All realms would’ve felt the wrath of that one. And it was because of this _boy_ here.”

The boy who almost ended the world. The boy with the demon blood. The boy king. Sam closed his eyes as those words washed over him. They clawed over old wounds that never fully healed. A shudder ran down Sam, and his heart pounded in his ears. He didn’t hear whatever it was that Tony said, or any of the other sharp words. All he knew was that angry voices were speaking around him as he fought to push away the memories. Ice cold fingers trailed up his spine, and Sam swore he could feel them pressing against his neck.

A warm hand settled onto his shoulder, the contrast of it snapping Sam away from his memories just a little. Just enough that he could remember that he was supposed to be stopping them, that he wasn’t _there_ anymore. He was here, with Tony, and he was safe. He was okay.

Tony’s hand tightened a little, grounding him, and Sam was grateful for it. When he opened his eyes, he found his brother standing mostly in front of him in a clear protective stance. “You’ve got no goddamn idea what you’re talking about.” Tony wasn’t shouting; his voice was low and flat in a way that was far more dangerous than any shout. “Trust me, you’ve got no idea what led him there. And he’s more than paid for it. So _back off_.”

“I think we should all back up for a little bit,” Steve said, moving to put himself between everyone in a way that Sam couldn’t help but think was stupid. Didn’t he understand just how dangerous a place that was to be? The man didn’t seem to care, though. He placed himself there without hesitation and gave them all the kind of firm look that he’d probably used with soldiers in the past. Too bad it had no real effect on any of them here. “It sounds like there’s a lot that needs to be talked about, so why don’t we all take a break and step away for a bit.”

For a long, charged moment, there was no telling which way things were going to go. Then Loki sniffed and spun sharply on his heel, marching out of the room with enough regality to put any king to shame. Thor followed after him, and it was clear that Tony wanted to as well. Sam watched the indecision on his brother’s face, and he hated it. Hated that he’d managed to put Tony in this kind of position just by _existing_. Closing his eyes for a second, just a moment where he could take in a breath and try to steady himself, he opened them again and tried to make sure none of what he felt showed on the outside. He brought a hand up and laid it over the hand still on his shoulder. When Tony’s eyes snapped to him, Sam smiled. “Go talk to him.”

“It’s fine, puppy.”

Sam smiled, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze. “Tony – go.” He dropped his hand away from Tony and made himself take a step back despite how much he didn’t want to.

It helped – more than it should, really – when Clint moved up beside him and lent his support with just his presence. “Go on, Stark. We’ll be all right here.”

Tony didn’t just go, of course. He took one last look at Sam, trying his best to read anything on his face, before giving a small nod. His chin came up, and his expression firmed just the slightest bit. Then, head held high, he set out after his partner. Sam watched him go and hated the part of himself that wanted nothing more than to call him back.

* * *

Tony was pissed. No, he was beyond pissed. He was _livid_. The look on Sam's face, the pain that had flashed in his eyes, that memory only served to fuel Tony's temper even higher. No one got to make Sam look like that. _No one_!

When Tony reached the room that Loki had gone into, he wasn't all that surprised to find that the other man wasn't there. “Where'd he go, JARVIS?”

“Master Loki is in the penthouse, sir,” JARVIS answered.

 _Should have figured_. Tony switched his path to head to the elevator. He took advantage of the ride up there to try and get some sort of control over his temper. As pissed off as he was about what Loki had just done, this was also his partner. Someone he was really coming to trust and to lo-... to care about a lot more than he'd anticipated. Tony tried to remind himself of that over and over. Yet, at the same time, all he could see was the way that Sam flinched at Loki's words, and yet he'd still stood there and took it like it was his due. Like he expected nothing less.

When the elevator doors opened, Tony saw enough to realize that Thor was nowhere in sight, thankfully. Then his eyes landed on Loki, and any attempts at keeping calm vanished underneath another wave of protective fury. Before Tony knew it, he was marching out of the elevator and straight for Loki. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Loki's eyes snapped up. They were bright with temper of their own; one that would've once had Tony backing down. Now, he kept on coming, unafraid to meet Loki toe to toe as the god curled his lip and flung a hand towards the floor. “Who do I think _I_ am? That creature down there is the reason the Nine Realms were almost destroyed!”

A snarl curled Tony's lips. He came to a stop a foot in front of Loki and didn't hesitate to glare up at him without a single ounce of fear. “Call him a creature again, and I swear to you, I'll blast your ass right out of my tower.” The threat was delivered in a voice that was all the more meaningful for just how quiet it was. Tony didn't scream or shout. His voice turned cold and hard in a way he'd never directed at Loki before. “I don't care who you are, or how much you mean to me. If I ever catch you treating him like that again, you won't be allowed back in my tower. I know damn well what he's done, but I also happen to know what was done to him to push him there.”

“And that excuses it?” Loki snapped.

Tony took a step forward and jabbed a finger in Loki's chest. “You've got no idea, Loki. _None_. The things that kid's been through...! He’s been screwed with his whole fucking life. They killed his Mom when he was a baby, ripped away any semblance of a real life he might’ve had and left him with a big brother who was forced to be a parent, and a Dad who saw him as an unruly soldier instead of being proud of having a smart son. Then, when Sam finally got out, they killed his girlfriend the exact same way just to push him down the road they wanted. These bastards, they pushed Sam every way they could through his whole life. They lied to him, tortured him, alienated him, tricked him, and then played him so that he thought what he was doing was the way to fix it all. Instead, it set the devil free. They manipulated the _fuck_ out of him, and you know what? Sam _still_ blames himself for it.”

Some of the coldness faded from Tony's voice as he saw Loki stay still. There was a lessening of the rage in his eyes that said Tony's words were making an impact. Not much of one yet, but _some_.

“This wasn't what he wanted, Loki,” Tony said earnestly. He needed Loki to understand this. Having the two most important people in his life hate one another wasn't something Tony wanted to have to live with. “He was tricked into doing it, and believe me, he gave up everything to fix it. Sam's a good kid. I know you'll like him if you just give him a chance. You already were, before you realized who he was. All I'm asking is that you just... just talk to him. Get to know the kid I know.”

Loki stared down at Tony for a long, tense moment. Some of the power had faded out of his eyes. A good sign, Tony knew. It meant he'd banked his temper for the moment. Then again, when Loki went calm, sometimes that was cause to worry more. He was capable of thinking clearer then. Of _planning_.

Still, Tony held still and waited, watching Loki's face carefully. Eventually, the god sighed, and a familiar soft look lightened his features. It let Tony know that he'd won even before Loki spoke. “All right,” Loki murmured. He brought one hand up and stroked his fingers over Tony's cheek. “I make no promises, Anthony, but I will try. I will speak with him. Without you there.”

Tony's eyes went wide. “Lokes...”

He was cut off when Loki shook his head. “This is my only offer. I have questions, and I believe he'll answer better without your presence hovering over him.” Loki watched Tony's face carefully. Whatever he saw there had him softening again, just a bit. He turned his hand and let his knuckles brush over Tony's cheek. “I will not hurt your brother, Anthony. Not unless he harms me first. On that, you have my word.”

That was the best he was going to get. Sighing, Tony leaned into his partner's touch. He hoped he hadn't made some big mistake here. Maybe he should have asked Sam's permission and explained all this to Loki ahead of time. Or maybe he should explain it now. Sam would understand, right?

Of course he would. But that wasn't Tony's story to tell - nor his decision to make. Sam had the right to choose who got to know those things about him.

Hopefully, Loki wouldn't push him too hard. Tony had a feeling Sam might actually share things with him if given a chance. Loki was the one here most likely to understand any of what Sam had been through. But if Loki pushed too much, if he drug up too many things, well...

Tony would be here to pick up the pieces. Just like he always was.

* * *

Escaping from the others was a lot easier than Sam had thought it would be. All he had to do was say that he wanted to be alone for a while. When Natasha tried to protest, Bruce intervened, shaking his head, and Clint stepped between them to talk to her, providing Sam with the perfect escape route away from them all. He made a mental note to thank them later. Staying in a room full of strangers right now was the last thing he wanted to do.

Sam ended up on his private floor. It was the only place he could be reasonably sure that he wasn't going to be disturbed.

That was the plan, at least.

At first, Sam got the privacy he wanted. He was free to curl up in a chair on the balcony just off his bedroom and stare out over the city and let his mind just... go blank. He didn't think about the argument. Didn't think about what had been said, or what he might now have to put up with because of it, or the shitty place it put Tony, now. Sam just didn't think about _anything_ , and it was perfect.

But it didn't last near as long as he wanted. Sam wasn't sure how long he'd been there when he felt a sudden prickle against his skin and a slight popping of his ears. The sensation had him looking up instantly, body already bracing for whatever threat was there.

Only, it wasn't a threat. Or, at least, Sam hoped it wasn't.

Loki stood a few feet away from him, watching him with a blank mask that Sam wasn't entirely sure how to interpret. For a moment Sam just stared up at him, neither of them saying a word. He knew why Loki was here. He knew the trickster was likely either trying to please Tony, or he had questions, or both.

Exhaustion had Sam closing his eyes and sighing. He just didn't have the strength for this kind of fight right now. Not on top of everything else. He just... didn't. Turning his head back towards the city, he leaned back in his seat and drew his legs up until his feet could rest on the edge of the seat, knees up like a barrier between Sam and the world. Sam opened his eyes again and kept his gaze on the city. “Why don't you sit down? I'm guessing you've got questions. You might as well be comfortable while you ask them.”

He listened to the soft brush of fabric as Loki came forward and took Sam up on his offer. This section of the balcony had two chairs. They were there for Sam and Dean to use since this was their floor, but more often than not it had been Sam and Tony who used them. Dean hadn't stayed here all that much. At least, not while Sam was somewhat sane.

Now he might not ever get the chance again.

Sam shook those thoughts off and focused instead on the here and now. He drew his arms into his lap and let his fingers curl against the sides of his shirt. Best to start this and get it over with. “You hate me because of the apocalypse.”

“I've been informed that I do not accurately know the events of the apocalypse enough to judge you on them,” Loki said in a low, steady voice.

“You know enough. What you know isn't a lie, either. I'm the one that set Lucifer free.”

There was a slight pause, the sound of shifting fabric, and then any chance at holding off on the hard stuff was lost. Loki dove right into the heart of it all. “You know, despite everything that is said about how it started, there’s nothing out there that says how it was finished. Only that, once again, you were involved.”

Sam closed his eyes. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Those memories were way too close to the surface. They were too strong, too _sharp_.

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself not to answer. Not only was this someone who knew more than the average person, and who could probably sense when he was being lied to, it was also someone that was more important to Tony than Tony had admitted to. Just seeing them together was enough to convince Sam of that. If Loki was really that important to Tony, he at least deserved the truth from Sam. Holding on to that was the only thing that gave Sam the strength to speak. “I let him out – I put him back.”

“How?”

“I said yes.” Those words never got any easier to say. Especially since the hell-memories had become so clear in his head. Memories of all the times that Lucifer had tried to get him to repeat that yes. He’d been creative. Saying ‘yes’ now was something Sam had to fight not to choke on. “It took time, but I got back control, opened his Cage, and threw us in. Michael, too, accidentally.”

The silence was so heavy, Sam swore that Loki had even stopped _breathing_.

He could leave it at that. If Sam got up and walked away, right now, he had a strong feeling that Loki would just let him. He wouldn’t hold Sam back from doing it. But… _He’s important to Tony. I can give Tony at least one important person in his life he doesn’t have to lie to or hide things from. It’s the least I can do_.

When Sam spoke again, his voice was quiet and mostly steady. Far steadier than he’d expected it to be. “My brother’s angel, he dragged me out that night, but he only managed to pull my body out. It wasn’t until about a year and a half later that Dean made a deal with Death to get my soul. He put up a wall in my head to keep the memories out, but it… someone broke it.” A friend – someone that Sam had thought he could trust. Someone who had, in the end, viewed him as a means to an end. “I went a little crazy for a while, but the guy, he helped me out in the end, and he took the piece of grace Lucifer left in me that was driving me crazy. He couldn't take on the memories, but he took that piece of grace. So, I remember it, all of it, but I can cope now.”

“That would explain a few things.” Loki's words were a surprise; enough of one for Sam to turn his head and actually look at him. He found Loki sitting calmly in the chair beside him, watching Sam with a rather searching look. There was no more animosity on his face. Just something calm, and old. So very old. “Time runs differently in other realms. Though I cannot see your soul, I can see your... energy, I believe you'd call it. Your natural energy is far older than you look.”

He was looking at Sam like that didn’t quite make sense, though, and Sam understood. If Loki could tell that Sam was older than he was, and he seemingly knew enough to know that Hell time was faster than earth, he was probably trying to figure out why Sam was different.

This was something that Sam hadn’t explained to anyone. Not Dean, not Tony – no one. Yet, as he looked up at Loki, he could see the aged look in the being’s eyes. He could see the weight of years there – and not all of them pleasant. There would be no pity here, he knew. Sympathy, maybe, but no pity. No horror. Realizing that, Sam found it strangely freeing. He didn’t stumble over his words as he said “Time runs a lot faster closer to the Cage. Lucifer also had _some_ control of his grace, at least inside the Cage. It wasn’t hard for him to manipulate time around one small mortal soul.”

“You continue to surprise me,” Loki murmured. “It is a trait you share with your brother.”

There was an olive branch in those last words. One that Sam gratefully latched on to. “Tony's always been good at doing the last thing you'd expect.”

A small smile curved Loki's lips. “Yes. Yes, he has.”

Silence fell over them once more, only this silence wasn't charged the way it had been before. There was a hint of that friendliness that they'd started to find back when they first met before Loki realized who he was. Feeling it there again eased some of the tension in Sam's shoulders. He turned his focus back out to the city, content to simply sit there and relax.

It was a surprise when Loki broke that quiet. Even more surprising was what he said.

“I was held for the duration of an earth year by a being who wished to break my will.” Loki's voice was flat, no sign of emotion in his words, and his eyes stayed out on the city. Yet each word was carefully chosen and deliberate.

Sam snuck a look at him but said nothing. He just sat silently and listened.

“I fell from the Bifrost in Asgard, fully believing that it would be my end. Only, I fell through a portal, into the space between worlds, and it was there I drifted for far too long. The Between is a place to drive any being mad. A wide, stretching blackness, where the things that hide in the dark lurk and wait for their victims. I was half-mad from it when _he_ rescued me from there.”

The scorn with which he said 'he' made it clear just who he was talking about. Or, Sam could guess, at least. This great being that had set Loki on Earth later; the one who Tony said had mind controlled him.

Loki lifted his chin a little in a sign of private defiance. He didn't stop speaking, though. “I spent the next earth year in his tender mercies until he broke me in ways I was unaware I was capable of breaking. Then, with the control of the mind gem, he was finally able to break past my defenses and take control, sending me to earth. Were it not for the Green Beast hitting me into the floor and severing the connection, I would likely still be in his control.”

This was more than just an olive branch. Loki was sharing with him a story that Sam was willing to bet he hadn't told too many, if any at all.

They were both so very broken. Sam understood the look in Loki's eyes right now. That strength that sat there, and the hints of madness that lurked at the edges. It was how Sam felt most days. Like he was just barely holding back the parts of him that wanted to break down and curl up into a tiny, gibbering mess. Before the Cage, he'd thought he knew what pain was. How badly things could hurt.

Lucifer had shown him otherwise.

He'd showed Sam what he was, down at his core, and just how easily he could break. He'd stripped Sam of any illusions about himself and forced him to face his greatest fears. Face every single broken, dark, bleeding aspect of who he really was inside.

The look on Loki's face was the one of someone who had done the same thing. Who had faced those things and somehow come out the other side. Maybe not entirely sane, but stronger. Alive.

Sam let his lips curve up into a small smile. “Guess they both underestimated us, didn't they?”

Surprise lit Loki's eyes. He'd clearly expected Sam to have a different response to his words. But the way his lips curved up and his eyes crinkled just a little at the corners suggested he was more than pleased with the response he got. “Indeed.”

This time when the quiet fell over them, neither one broke it. That sat there together quietly and took comfort from the presence of possibly the only other person who might actually be able to understand just how broken they really were inside.


	6. Chapter 6

There was no telling how long the two of them sat there together. Sam found he was comfortable in Loki's presence in a way he typically wasn't with people. Baring their souls the way they had, it'd created a bond between the two, a connection that very few people get a chance to share. They both knew the kinds of things the other had gone through. Details didn't have to be said; there was no point in that. They could easily fill those in themselves.

Sam had always had Dean, he knew. Dean understood torture. He'd been in Hell for forty years. He knew what it was to be ripped apart and broken down. But Dean was also Sam's _brother_. Everything that Sam had gone through was so painful for Dean to hear. It hurt him, and it heaped his guilt higher and higher, because Dean could never hear about Sam being in pain and not feel guilty about it.

That made it so hard to talk to him. Sam had never wanted to hurt Dean. He didn't want him feeling guilty about the Cage. That had been Sam's choice, not Dean's. So, to keep from hurting his brother more, Sam just never spoke of things. He never talked about the memories or the nightmares or the little things that triggered him during the day.

That wouldn't be an issue with Loki.

He'd been tortured by someone who sounded like they were a master at their craft. He knew what it was to go through that kind of pain, and he knew what it was to break at the end. He wouldn't judge Sam for that. Nor did he have any preconceived notions about how Sam should be. He hadn't known him before the Cage, and so he wouldn't know what Sam had been like back then. He wouldn't be comparing the two in his head and finding the current Sam lacking.

With Loki, Sam could just be himself, he realized. The thought was freeing.

Eventually, the quiet spell over them was broken by the sound of JARVIS. He kept his voice low as if in deference to the mood around them. “Master Loki, Young Sir, dinner is being served if either of you would care to join them. Sir also would like to extend the offer to bring dinner here, if you so wish.”

Loki looked at Sam and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling, Sam shook his head. “Go ahead. Let Tony know I'm just going to stick around here for a little while. And that I'll sleep down here tonight.” His smile shifted until it was more of a smirk.

That had Loki chuckling. He didn't even bother to deny it as he pushed himself up from his chair. “I assure you, I know how to soundproof a room.” This time it was Loki who was smirking, clearly mischievous as he added on, “If I hadn't before, my relationship with him would've necessitated learning how.”

“Trust me, I'm way too aware of that.”

Loki laughed lowly. He looked far less tense than he had when he first arrived. There were fewer lines on his face, and his shoulders didn't seem to be as tight. When he smiled down at Sam, it was a warm thing, relaxed and easy. “Enjoy your evening, Samuel, and sleep well.”

“You too, Loki.”

In the next instant that tingle went along Sam's skin again, and Loki vanished, making Sam's ears pop once more. Sam shook his head and smiled again before he relaxed back into his chair. That whole conversation had gone a lot better than he'd thought it would. Instead of a potential enemy and a situation that would create a lot of tension, Sam had walked away with the start of what had the potential to be a really great friendship.

It was only ten minutes later when another small tingle ran over Sam's skin. Only, it wasn't Loki that appeared. Instead, a plate of food appeared on the small table that sat between the two chairs.

Sam stared down at it and let out a soft laugh. “Tell them ‘thank you’ for me, would you, JARVIS?”

“Of course, Young Sir.”

Still smiling, Sam reached out for the plate.

* * *

Sam's sleep was restless that night, far too many things in his head to allow him to properly shut himself off, and it left him a bit out of sorts when he finally got up in the morning. Usually, after nights like this Sam might go for a run, or just pop down the street from whatever motel they were in and grab him and Dean some coffee and breakfast.

The second one might not be an option, but the first one definitely was. Sam pushed himself up out of bed and made his way to the dresser. He kept plenty of spare clothes in here, and Tony tended to put new ones in his dresser and closet between each visit.

Ten minutes later Sam was dressed in jogging pants and a t-shirt, and he was making his way down to the ground floor. “JARVIS, will you let Tony know I've gone for a run if he tries to look for me?”

“I will. Might I suggest taking the service exit on your left once you exit the elevator? Captain Rogers is there, and I'm quite sure he'd enjoy company on his morning run.”

Running with company wasn't something Sam had ever done. Neither Dean nor Tony were runners. If anything, the two looked at Sam like he was insane for going for a run. It might be nice to have someone to run with. Then again, Sam highly doubted he'd be able to keep up with a super soldier, even taking into account all the little ways that Sam's body had changed after the Cage. All those tiny things that Sam tried to ignore - his improved endurance, his slightly faster healing, the extra strength that he'd learned to hold back - that made him just that much less _human_.

Sam shook those thoughts out of his head as best as he could. Maybe a running partner would be a good idea. Less chance of Sam getting lost in his head as he went.

He followed the route JARVIS directed him through, taking the service exit out of the tower, and sure enough, there was Steve Rogers. The guy was waiting for him, suggesting that JARVIS had warned him Sam was coming. “Morning, Sam.”

“Morning, Steve.” Sam offered him a small, hesitant smile. “I don't mean to intrude. I was heading out for a run and JARVIS suggested you might want a running partner?”

“That'd be great.” And wow, the guy actually looked like he meant it, his smile growing even bigger. “No one else around here likes to run.”

Sam set to stretching his muscles out and flashed a small smile Steve's way. “I imagine they're worried about trying to keep up.”

“Probably,” Steve conceded.

“Well, don't worry about me. I don't mind if you leave me behind for a while. I've got no illusions about keeping up, and I'm secure enough in myself to not need to make it a competition.”

His teasing words drew a surprised chuckle from Steve. He was looking at Sam in an appraising way now like he wasn't quite sure what to make of him, and Sam said nothing. He knew he was probably confusing for the people here. Yesterday hadn't exactly been an easy day. But, Sam was going to try to make today a better one.

The soul-crushing sensation of yesterday wasn't anywhere near as strong today. Sam had something he hadn't before - he had hope. Tony seemed so optimistic about what they might find. Sam held on to that. He had to hold on to that. If he didn't, he knew he'd sink back down into that pit inside himself, and he wasn't sure he'd have the strength to drag himself back out again.

So he clung to that bit of hope, and he forced his body up, forcing it to move. Right now he needed to act like everything was normal. Like this was just a hunt and Dean was just missing, and Kevin was, too. It was the only way that Sam was going to get through it.

Once he was stretched and ready, Sam straightened back up, and he and Steve exchanged smiles. “Ready?” Steve asked. At Sam's nod, he gestured him off to the left, and the two set out on their path. The number of people out even at this early hour meant that it wasn't as easy to talk. But that was fine. Sam didn't need words and neither, it seemed, did Steve. The two ran side by side, more than happy with just the presence of someone at their side, and the sound of their feet hitting the ground.

* * *

Sam was right; he couldn't keep up with a super soldier. More than once Steve passed him and doubled back to join him once more. Sam didn't take offense to it, though.

By the time they finally made it back to the tower, Sam felt a lot more at ease. The warm burn of his muscles had helped to take away the aching chill left from a night of nightmares and restless sleep. As he stretched himself out a little, trying to relax his body before they headed inside, he sent a smile Steve's way. “Thanks.”

Steve smiled right back at him. “No problem. I run pretty much every morning - you're more than welcome to join me for it.”

“I might take you up on that.”

* * *

Twenty minutes after he got back, Sam made his way onto the communal floor where JARVIS had let him know everyone was gathered.

They weren't all sitting around the table when Sam showed up. Natasha and Clint were out on the balcony off the living room, eating what looked like bowls of cereal together. Bruce and Steve were in the kitchen, and Thor, Loki, and Tony were in the living room. Thor took up a whole loveseat like it was a recliner for him, while Tony and Loki were on the other loveseat, cuddled up together. Tony was tucked under Loki's arm, his back against the mage's chest, and he was fiddling around on a Starkpad.

The sight of Sam had Tony grinning. There was a hint of worry in his gaze as it ran over Sam, yet it didn't diminish his grin. “About time you joined us! I heard you went running with Captain Patriotism over there.”

Sam's lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes. Making his way over to the open couch, he slid down onto the end nearest Tony and kicked his legs up so that his feet could rest on the coffee table. “I like running.”

“I know.” Tony wrinkled his nose and mock-shuddered. “I don't know how you do it. There are much more fun ways to build up a sweat, puppy.” That was delivered with a heavy wink that made his meaning clear.

Far too used to him to be bothered, Sam just relaxed back in his seat and sighed as his muscles eased a little at the comfortable seating. God, staying with Tony always spoiled his body a little. Everything here was so _comfortable_. “I'll leave the sex marathons to you, Tone.”

“We're having sex marathons?”

The sound of Clint's voice had Sam looking up. The archer was carrying two bowls with one hand while his other had two mugs. Judging by the fact that Natasha was still outside, he was likely just inside for a coffee refill and had managed to catch the end of their conversation.

Sam felt a slight blush hit his cheeks. Of course, he had to be unlucky enough for Tony to notice it, and his big brother grinned gleefully. “We were discussing alternative forms of exercise, birdie. Sam here was looking for a good _workout_.”

Oh, damn him. Sam shifted one leg off the coffee table so he could kick out at Tony. With his face out of Clint's view, he mouthed a sharp ' _Shut up!_ ' at Tony.

“Ow!” Tony glared at him and kicked back, which Sam dodged, prompting Tony to try again.

The two devolved into a kicking fight that was more suited to a pair of ten-year-olds than adults. It wasn't one of Sam's best moments. They didn't really pay any attention to anyone else until Loki drawled out a low “Must I separate you children?” and Thor let out a booming laugh.

Sam and Tony looked up with almost identical sheepish looks on their faces. There was a hint of color in Tony's cheeks. Likely, he'd forgotten about the others, just like Sam had. He was reminded of their presence now as he looked up and found everyone staring at them. Sam ducked his head down, while Tony lifted his chin up and grinned, pushing away any embarrassment. “We're just as bad, even if you separate us,” he told Loki. “We just get more creative. And he cheats.”

“I do not!” Sam protested instantly. He should know better than to take the bait, yet he's never quite been able to help it. Not with Dean and not with Tony. The little brother in him refused to ignore those kinds of remarks. “It's not my fault JARVIS helps me and not you.”

“You use my own machinery against me!” Tony dramatically laid back against Loki. “It's a betrayal, I tell you, Lokes. Pure betrayal.”

Loki gave Tony a look of such fake sympathy it had Sam snickering. He laughed even more when Loki lifted a hand to pat Tony's head. “Yes, yes, my poor Tony.” His eyes lifted up, humor in them, and Sam watched as they went over behind Sam to where the others were. Then Loki was looking at him again and nodding, using his eyes to gesture behind Sam.

It was enough warning to have Sam twisting a little and looking back just in time to see Bruce coming forward with two glasses in hand. He held one out to Sam, lips curving into a shy sort of smile. “Here. Tony had us make two of his smoothies instead of just one.”

“Oh.” Sam took the offered glass and returned a smile of his own. “Thanks. You didn't have to make this, though, Dr. Banner. I could've done it.”

Bruce moved to give the other glass to Tony. “Just Bruce, please, and it's no big deal. JARVIS did most of the work. I just grabbed the premade bags and dumped them in the machine.”

The freezer was usually kept stocked up on Tony's floor - and on Sam's, when he was here - with bags that the two used to make smoothies. There were some random mixtures, but they were all healthy, and all geared towards a good start to the day. Sam preferred them to an actual breakfast, and he knew Tony was the same. They often didn't really eat until lunch rolled around. Breakfast was smoothies and shakes and coffee.

“Either way, thank you,” Sam said.

* * *

While Bruce went back to the kitchen, and Clint was busy pouring coffee, Sam turned his attention back to the trio with him. Or, more accurately, to Loki. As entertaining as the rest of this was, Sam had a goal he was working towards here, one he couldn't forget about. It'd already been way too long as it was.

“So,” Sam said, leaning forward and dropping his feet to the ground. He rested his arms on his thighs and held his cup between his knees. “Tony said you might be a person to talk to about helping to find a friend of mine.”

“Anthony explained to me last night what it is that you need. I'd be more than happy to help you conduct the necessary spell,” Loki said easily.

His wording took a moment to really sink into Sam's head. “Wait a second... help _me_ conduct the spell?” Sam's eyes darted over to Tony and then back to Loki's face. “I was under the impression you were going to be the one doing it.”

A little furrow appeared between Loki's brows. “And I was under the impression you simply required assistance in how to direct your spell.”

Now even Tony was looking up at Loki, clearly just as confused as Sam was. “No, babe. We were hoping you'd be able to do it, being our resident magic-guy.”

“Samuel possess his own magic.” Loki somehow managed to make those words sound like a question and a statement at the same time. Green eyes traveled back and forth between the brothers, clearly looking for something. Or trying to understand. “That was why I thought you simply wanted me to assist you. You have plenty of power enough on your own to be able to do a spell, especially one as simple as this.”

A light touch from Tony drew Loki's eyes down to him. Whatever silent conversation the two had ended with Loki finally giving a small nod.

Sam's stomach twisted a little out of guilt. Why was he so squeamish about this? It was just a tracking spell. _Anyone_ could do that. But... Loki's mention of Sam's power...

Was that really something that Loki could just sense? Did he see the power in Sam because he had power of his own? Sam licked his lips and dropped his eyes down. How much was Loki really able to see when he looked at Sam? He'd known that he was older. Now he was seeing power - a power that Sam had thought gone forever, burnt out of him after Yellow Eyes died and Sam stopped drinking demon blood.

His downward spiral of thoughts was interrupted by Loki.

“After breakfast, we can retire to my workshop to gather the necessary components for the spell.”

Sam nodded his agreement. He didn't try speaking yet. Instead, he took a drink from his smoothie, trying to give himself a chance to gather up control again so that his voice would be steady when he did speak.

In the meantime, Tony filled the silence. “While you two go play magic in the Sparkle Box, I think I'll hit my workshop for a while.”

Thor made a choking sound, and there was some muffled laughter from across the room. For his part, Loki glared down at Tony, who wasn't the least bit disturbed. “I have told you to cease calling my workshop by that name,” Loki said flatly.

Which, really, wrong way to go about it. By telling Tony not to call it that, and showing such open aggravation, Loki was basically guaranteeing that Tony was going to use that name indefinitely.

Sam chose to ignore it for now. He shook his head and brushed off his brother being a dork, as usual. Instead, he focused on what else Tony had said. It sounded suspiciously to him like Tony had something in mind for his workshop time. Something specific. “You've thought of something.”

Holding one hand up, Tony waggled it back and forth in a 'so-so' gesture. “Nothing concrete yet. I've got a few things I want to play with, see what I come up with. Plus, I need to refresh my brain on some of the Levi lore, see what's what. I'll let you know if I come up with something.”

Lore was definitely something that Tony had in spades. Sam knew for a fact that Tony had gotten Bobby a scanner at some point and that the two had been scanning their way through Bobby's books so Tony could have a digital copy of them all. He wasn't sure how far they'd gotten before... well, _before_. But Tony probably had more lore books in his possession now, digital or otherwise, than anyone else that Sam knew. If there were something to be found, he and JARVIS would find it.

* * *

It turns out Loki's 'sparkle box' was really an entire floor. One that Tony had reinforced and dedicated to Loki and his magic. The minute Sam stepped out of the elevator, he felt the shift in the air. The prickle along his skin that only ever came from a really, really warded room. Sam barely had time to suck in a breath from that before he was jerking backward for an entirely different reason.

He'd always been a bit sensitive to magic and various powers. After his time in the Cage, exposed to so much grace, that only seemed to have gotten worse.

Walking into Loki's magic room was like dunking himself in the middle of a storm. Sam scrambled back into the elevator, outside the wards he now knew had to be dampening _that_ , and pressed himself back up against the wall. At the same time, his hand wanted to twitch to a gun he wasn't even wearing.

Loki gave a soft “ _Oh_ ” and then stepped back into the elevator as well. “JARVIS, if you please, shut the doors for us but do not move us?”

The only answer he gave was to quietly shut the doors.

Once they were closed, it was easy to feel the change in power. The way the last of it was now muted. Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. That was so much better. When he looked up, he found Loki watching him, one dark eyebrow lifted and a ghost of an amused smile curving over his lips. “No magic, hm?”

A few different responses cycled through Sam's brain before he settled on the one he would've given were this Tony or Dean. “Oh, shut up.”

Loki's grin grew wide and toothy. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by Sam's attitude. More than anything, he came off as pleased by it, or like he was amused by this tiny little mortal daring to get sassy with him. “I had a feeling you might react to my workshop. Though I must admit, I didn't expect you to react quite so strongly.” His expression shifted into something a bit more contemplative than amused, now. “You're far more sensitive than I'd anticipated. It makes sense, I suppose.”

Those words had Sam's shoulders bunching and a scowl twisting his features. “What do you mean by that?” Sam asked sharply.

“Peace.” Loki held his hands out, palms towards Sam. “I meant nothing against you, Samuel. I simply meant you have been exposed to many different types of power. It was bound to make you more sensitive than the average mortal. I should have anticipated that, and you have my apologies for not doing so.”

That wasn't really what Sam wanted to be thinking about. Not that it was far from the surface these days. Sam pushed it down as best as he could and tried to think past the creeping of ice up his spine, and the low chuckles that echoed in the back of his mind. “It's fine.” The words came out weak, and Sam knew that Loki heard it by the skeptical look the other gave him. Drawing in a breath, Sam made his voice steadier. “It is, Loki. It's fine. I'm...” Sam hesitated, more accustomed to not admitting this out loud. To just keeping it inside. But, if there were anyone who was going to understand magic, it'd be this guy right here, and he already knew Sam was different. That made it easier for Sam to keep going. “I'm used to just ignoring it. Sometimes I can block it out. I just didn't think before coming in here. If I had, I would've tried to better prepare myself.”

“Perhaps we'll leave it at, we were both unthinking, and make another attempt.”

It took a minute for Sam to gather up the mental control to prepare himself to go into the room again. He'd learned the trick of it from a book Bobby had slipped him, after Sam first got his soul back and felt so... out of it. Bobby had suggested that Sam read it and practice some of the mental tricks in there. Tricks that Bobby said _he_ used to try and keep his head more safe from 'mind reading bastards.'

When Sam finally got himself together, his mind calm and as protected as he'd learned how to make it, he opened his eyes again.

Loki stood there watching him curiously, a little tilt to his head. “You have impressive mental shields for one who is self-taught,” was all he said. Then the doors were opening, and the two were once more stepping out into Loki's workshop.

This time Sam was more prepared for the feel of magic all around him. He twitched, but he didn't pull away, didn't try and fight it. Instincts weren't screaming _danger_ at him anymore. Over and over, Sam reminded himself that this magic belonged to someone Tony trusted, someone very important to him, and that Tony wouldn't have let Sam come down here if Tony didn't trust Loki implicitly.

The more he cleared his head, the better able he was to appreciate the entire floor that Loki had to himself here.

It wasn't separated off into rooms the way that most floors were. Oh, there were two rooms when they first exited the elevator, one on either side of the hallway, but at the end of the hallway the whole floor just _opened up_. There were a few support beams here an there - otherwise, it was a wide-open space that looked like it'd been taken out of some magical, elvish palace, with some influences that seemed to speak of India, or of old-time France.

There were beautiful carpets all around the place, covering a stone floor. Actual _wall sconces_ were placed throughout the room, made of what looked to be gold, and bearing _candles_.  There were tables upon tables just as there were in Tony's workshop, only instead of mechanical projects, these held glasses and jars and small vials of various colored liquids.Sam felt like he was walking into a proper wizard's room.

Most of that was on the right side of the room. To the left had to be the part that was more the 'study' than anything else. There were shelves upon shelves of books - so many books Sam was itching to look through. There was a desk as well, tucked by the end closest to the hall entrance. Down at the other end, with the large windows that were covered with dark green drapes, there was a cozy area with a chaise lounge done in dark, dark reds, with black trim.

The majority of the room seemed to be done in reds, blacks, gold, and green. It was a true blending of Tony and Loki's colors. The fact that it was _here_ , in this place that was no doubt Loki's sanctuary, it said quite a lot about how Loki felt about Tony. Far more than any words he could've said.

The scholar in Sam wanted to start looking at and poking at everything immediately. He held himself back with what was probably visible effort. Just being allowed in here was enough for now. Once they got to know one another, Sam was definitely going to ask to come back in here for a little while.

For now, he followed Loki over to one of the tables that were less cluttered than the others. Loki was already there, gathering various ingredients and setting them down next to the bowl. The mage didn't stop what he was doing, but he slanted a look over at Sam as he got close. There was a question in his eyes, a final _are you sure_ that Sam answered with just a nod.

Leaning in, Sam watched as Loki began to put the spell together.

As Sam watched, he realized that the type of spell that Loki was doing, it looked to be more like a scrying of some sort. Something that might show them Kevin without showing them anything else. At least, that's what it looked like. Sam leaned in a little closer and furrowed his brow. “Are you scrying him?”

Bent down the way he was, he missed the pleased little smile that crossed Loki's lips and was quickly wiped away. “Indeed. Our best chance at finding him, especially as I do not know him, is to scry him and attempt to ascertain his location by his surroundings.”

Sam bit his bottom lip. He'd thought that Loki might do something else. Or that he might have spells that were better than the ones that Sam knew. “Why don't you...?”

When Sam stopped himself, Loki paused and turned to look at him. “Why don't I what?”

“Why don't you do an actual location spell?”

“What do you mean?”

There was such open and honest curiosity in Loki's voice, it was easy for Sam to get caught up in it. To forget for a little bit that he had come in here with the intention of doing no magic whatsoever. As Sam told Loki about the spell that he'd learned from Ruby, they somehow ended up with a map spread out on the table and Sam walking Loki through the steps of it.

He didn't realize what Loki had done until it came time to light the match over the map. Sam paused, match in hand, and turned slowly to look at Loki. He looked at the way Loki's mouth was tight as if resisting the urge to smile, and the little crinkles that were showing up at the edge of his eyes, and just the all-around smug air. Sam stared at him a moment, narrowing his eyes. “You little shit.”

“Anthony frequently refers to me as such,” Loki admitted, not looking at all bothered by this.

Sam stared at him a moment longer. “Well played, Loki. Well played.”

The only response Loki gave was to flash a brief smile. He said nothing, though, and Sam ended up shaking his head. It'd been a while since he'd had someone maneuver him so perfectly.

There was no point in stopping now. Sam lit the match and dropped it down onto the map.

It never stopped being cool to watch the way the map burned away what wasn't necessary and left only what was. They'd started with a US map, and narrowed it down to state. Then, from there, they pulled out another map and narrowed it down even further.

By the time they were done, they had a town just a few hours away.

“Well done,” Loki complimented him, once they were done.

Sam didn't look up at first. He knew he should go start planning. They had a town now, a location, and Sam needed to get there so he could figure out where exactly they were holding Kevin and what it was that Sam was going to need to do to get him free. He should be trying to go and save Kevin.

Instead, Sam found himself staring down at the map for a long moment, his thoughts bouncing around. “You know,” he finally spoke, voice as low and steady as he could make it. “I get that maybe magic and powers and such aren't... that they aren't bad for you, or where you come from or whatever. But you've got to understand. What I... my powers, they didn't come from any good place. I got my power because a demon bled into my mouth when I was a baby. One of the first demons, actually. Azazel. After that, I amped up my own power by willingly drinking more demon blood. Then after _that_ , I was a vessel for _Lucifer himself_. My power isn't this good thing you seem to think it is.”

It was hard for Sam to bring himself to look at Loki. The fact that he found no judgment on the other's face made it a little bit easier. What he did find, however, was _understanding_ and something else that might've been curiosity. Loki was looking Sam over with a gaze that made the hunter feel as if Loki were looking straight through him instead of _at_ him.

“I don't believe that,” Loki said honestly. “While I would hazard a guess that the demon blood, as well as the grace you've had in you, have _enhanced_ your powers, they do appear, at the core, to be your own. Likely you were born with them. When Azazel fed you demon blood as a babe, it would've changed the direction they grew in, stunting them in some ways. Binding them, likely, so that they'd only be used in the way that _he_ wished them to be. But they were yours first.” Pausing, Loki tilted his head and watched Sam carefully. “They could be yours again, if you wished.”

There was no pause before Sam shook his head no. “I've seen what happens to me when I use these powers. They've done me - the _world_ \- more harm than good. I'm not... I shouldn't be trusted with powers. Not like these.” The last thing Sam needed was to do anything that made him less human. _'If I didn't know you, I would want to hunt you.'_ Those words echoed aching in Sam's heart.

“Samuel - despite what was done to you, your powers are not inherently bad,” Loki said, gentle yet firm. “I understand that you've been conditioned to believe they are, but I assure you, they are not. Seidr, or magic, as you call it, is not inherently good nor bad. It simply _is_. Is your power different? Yes. What they changed in you, it was not right, and it was not fair, I would never claim that. But wishing it away doesn’t change it. Trust me – that is a lesson I have learned well. You cannot wish away part of who you are. These powers, whether you use them or not, are a part of you. You can ignore them, or you can take them and make them your own. Learn how to use it properly.”

“The last time I tried, I almost destroyed the world,” Sam pointed out softly.

“No, you were drugged and manipulated into almost destroying the world. What I propose will never involve you ingesting another drop of that poison. I can teach you the proper way to use what’s inside of you.” Loki leaned in a little as if to make sure that he had Sam’s sole focus. His gaze was intent; full of _something_ that made it impossible for Sam to look away. “What was done to you was a perversion that is considered worse than rape among magic users. Your sense of self was taken and violated and used in terrible ways. What I’m proposing is to give you that sense of self _back_.”

There were no words better suited to cut straight through Sam. Too many times in his life, he'd had his sense of control, his _choice_ , ripped away from him. Sam knew it was bad, that it was wrong, but he honestly couldn't remember the last time his body had felt like... _his_. If he'd retained _any_ sense of autonomy prior to the apocalypse, his time in the Cage had stripped it away, and finding out what his body had done without him while he'd been down there had been the final nails in the coffin.

Sam felt most of the time like his body wasn't his anymore. Like he had no rights to it or choices in what happened to it. Some days, he felt like a passenger, just waiting for someone to come along and take the wheel once more. They'd do it anyways without his permission - what was the point of fighting it?

Yet here Loki was, not only offering him a choice - and Sam knew, even without asking, that if he truly said no, Loki would respect that - but offering to give Sam a way to defend himself. To help rebuild and protect his sense of self. Loki was giving him the choice of power in more than one way.

Sam pressed his lips together to try and stop the 'yes' that would've come out too quickly, and too full of a pleading Sam wouldn't let himself show in front of someone he barely knew.

Only when he was sure he was in control did he dare to speak. “Let me talk to Tony first.”

It was a huge admission on Sam's part, and Loki seemed to not only recognize it but respect it as well. “Of course. Decisions like this are no small thing.” Loki lifted a hand and laid it on Sam's shoulder, giving a light squeeze. “Should you wish to learn, Samuel, I would be happy to take you as a student. Simply let me know whatever you decide.”

Sam could only nod his head. Except for Tony, he'd never had someone who was so respectful of his choices, and his right to make them.

Clearing his throat, Sam pushed all that away. That was something he could deal with tonight. Right now, they had a prophet to save.


	7. Chapter 7

Finding out a location for Kevin was only part one of things. Part two involved planning. Sam had a location - he knew where he needed to go. From there, it was ridiculously easy to have JARVIS help him pull up a map of the area and determine the most likely place they were hiding in.

After that, it came time to figure out what needed to be done. Unfortunately, it wasn't just Sam this time, or Sam and Dean, or even just Sam and Tony. No, _everyone_ seemed to be involved. All because Sam had gone to find Tony, who was seemingly with the others getting lunch, and Loki hadn't given Sam any choice on just sending a message through JARVIS. He'd just teleported the both of them there and then told Tony "We've located the prophet."

Everyone seemed to want to be involved once they heard that. Or, more like, the various Avengers _assumed_ they were going to be involved. The only thing Sam could be grateful for was that Thor didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight. Where he was, Sam wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t here.

"How soon are we going?" Steve asked him, looking so very serious. The others were equally so.

" _I'll_ be going as soon as I can," Sam said slowly and deliberately. He ignored Steve after that and turned instead to look at Loki. "Your teleportation... do you think you'd be able to take me to the town he's in?"

Loki shrugged one shoulder negligently. "Of course."

"Would you mind?" Sam asked.

For some reason, his question seemed to surprise Loki a little bit. His eyebrows went up and then narrowed down as he regarded Sam with a quizzical look, like Sam was some sort of puzzle he couldn't make sense of. "No," he finally said, voice soft. "I would not mind at all, Samuel."

"You're not going alone," Tony interjected. When Sam twisted to look at him, he found Tony watching him with a look on his face that said clearer than words that he wasn't going to be moved on this. "You need backup, kiddo. Hunters aren't supposed to hunt alone."

A sharp pang went through Sam at those words. He saw Tony flinch too, his big brother realizing just how much impact those words would have, yet Tony didn't take them back. He wouldn't, either, Sam knew. He'd hate having hurt Sam unintentionally, but he wouldn't move on a matter when it came to Sam's safety. That was just the way that he was.

Unfortunately, Tony insisting on Sam not going alone seemed to spur on the others. "Tony's right," Steve said, leaning forward to better look at Sam. "No mission should ever be done alone. Going into any situation without backup is risky. IT sounds to me like a situation like yours is far more dangerous than most. You need all the backup you can get."

"And going in with backup that doesn't know what they're doing is more likely to get me or Kevin _killed_ ," Sam couldn't help but point out. He and Dean had always tried not to include families or civilians in their hunts if at all possible. Occasionally a law enforcement officer got involved, or a family member who couldn't walk away, but even that was different than this. They usually ended up at least taking orders, for the most part. Something told him the Avengers wouldn't be as willing.

"We've handled aliens," Steve pointed out. "I'm sure we can handle this."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. _Dammit!_ "I don't have time to tell you all the ways you're wrong, Captain Rogers." Frustrated, Sam ran a hand over his face. This was going to go so wrong. He just knew it. _I'll just have to make sure that they aren't the ones to pay the price for it. Or Kevin_.

Rubbing his face, Sam resigned himself to not only saving Kevin but babysitting the Avengers. "If you guys come with me, you need to actually _listen_ to me. No second guessing what I tell you to do, no trying to go out and do any heroics on your own." He opened his eyes and dropped his hand down so that he could look from one face to the next and make sure they understood just how serious he was. "If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I say run, you _run_. You listen to me, or to Tony, or Loki. The rest of you might have experience with aliens, but demons are a whole other ballgame, and we don't have time to teach you what to do."

"I don't think my skills are going to be necessary for this trip," Bruce said, one hand coming up a little like a student in class. He flushed when everyone looked his way and lowered his hand down, yet his voice didn't waver, and he didn't back down. "I'll go make sure the med floor is prepped and ready for whatever happens."

Sam nodded his head. That sounded like a good plan to him. "Thank you, Dr. Banner. The rest of you, go, get your uniforms on. I plan on leaving in the next ten minutes, and I'm not going to wait for anyone who isn't back yet."

They all started moving in an instant, Tony included, leaving Sam standing there with Loki at his side. He was a bit surprised when the mage waved a hand, and a duffel bag appeared on the table. One that, when Sam looked inside, he saw carried a cache of typical weapons needed for a demon hunt. Not his own - no. These were new.

Sam looked up from the bag and smiled at Loki. "Thank you. For, well, for all of this, really."

"You're quite welcome."

Sharing one last smile, Sam turned back to the bag and started to arm himself. His mind was already moving ahead to the things they needed to do if they were going to get Kevin back.

He was still digging around in the bag and sorted out what he might need and what he wouldn’t when the others came back to them. Crouched down next to the bag, Sam rifled through the contents, and he couldn’t quite help but be amused by some of it. Squeeze bottles of holy water were in here, something which made Sam's lips twitch and had him tilting just enough to shoot Loki an amused smile. “Creative.”

Loki smirked at him. “Far better than dumping your entire container on _one_ demon.”

It was a good idea. One that Sam was definitely going to keep in mind the next time he stocked up the trunk of the Impala. As everyone gathered around, Sam tossed a bottle out for each of them, letting them know “Holy water burns them, so it's a good way to make them stop, though it doesn't kill them. You can't actually kill them. The best you're going to be able to do is slow them down, hopefully, long enough for us to either exorcise them or...” Sam pulled out the only contribution he'd made to things, something that he'd had inside his jacket. He always had it in his jacket. Holding up the demon knife, he glanced up at the others. “Or I can kill them.”

“Aren't there humans still inside these bodies?” Clint asked. His gaze was hesitant as it landed on Sam's knife.

Something squirmed unpleasantly inside of Sam's stomach. He looked down at the knife and fought back the shudder he felt when he saw it. It helped a little when Tony reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. That touch gave Sam the strength to nod and focus back on what needed to be done, not his memories of the past.

“Yeah. Yeah, there sometimes are. Not always... demons ride the bodies they're in pretty hard. Even if a soul is still around, the damage done to a body is sometimes too great. Once the demon leaves, they human is as good as dead. Snapping the neck of the body won't kill a demon, but when they're gone, it's enough left behind to kill the human.” Sam pushed himself up from the ground and dusted himself off. He didn't flinch at the looks he was getting. “If at all possible, we'll try and exorcise first. Tony has the exorcism recorded on his suit, and I have a few of them memorized. But if we can't... killing them is a mercy.”

Steve looked pained. “That's not your call to make. If there's a chance we can save them, any of them, we have to take it.”

“Have you ever been possessed, Captain?” Sam asked. He didn't even wait for Steve to shake his head no before telling him “I have. More than once. When you're possessed... you're not just _asleep_ the entire time they're inside you. They can knock you out if the way - most of the time, they just choose not to. A lot of them like having you there to witness it. They get off on making you watch as you do the vilest things. Watch as your hands kill people. _Innocent_ people. Or people that matter to you. They make you watch the whole time, and they revel in it. They love it. If someone had come up to me when I was possessed and hadn't been able to save me? Trust me when I say, killing me would've been a mercy. If it stopped someone else from being hurt or dying, I would've welcomed it. Sometimes... sometimes even if they can be saved, they won't thank you for it later. Not when they have to go to sleep each night and see the things that their hands were responsible for.”

There were too many things that Sam’s body had done when he hadn’t been in control of it. Things that still haunted his dreams. He knew what it was like to go to sleep and see it all and know, logically, that it hadn’t been _him_ , yet still feel like it’d been him.

Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. Nor was it the time to stand here and argue all this.

He wasn’t the only one who was thinking that way. With his usual timing, Tony neatly stepped in and cut off any further conversation. “Cute as this all is, we’ll debate it later. We’re all here to follow Sam’s lead. You don’t like it, stay behind.” That said, he deliberately brought his focus to Sam, dismissing all the others. “So, how we gonna do this?”

Sam chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. Several possibilities were racing through his mind. There was one that seemed like it had a better chance of working than most, though. “Can you get us close?” he asked Loki.

The slow smile he got in response was answer enough.

* * *

With Loki’s help, they were able to get pretty close to the building in the blink of an eye. The warding prevented him from taking them directly inside. The mage looked more than a little annoyed by that. Enough that Tony grinned and patted his cheek before promising to shoot out the wards for him as quick as he could.

That was a job that Sam put Tony and Clint on. The two were best with long-range shots. As Sam told Clint, “All we need to do is break a line for a ward to be ineffective. A crack in the wood, a hole, anything that makes a straight break through one of its lines. That means you might have to shoot a few arrows side by side to really break a good line.”

Clint didn’t even flinch over it. “Got it.”

Getting to Kevin was the job that Sam gave to Natasha and Steve. They were best suited for it. Sam gave them a good description of him, just in case any of the demons in there had meat-suits similar to Kevin’s. “Just get in, get him, and get out,” Sam told them. “Don’t wait for the rest of us. Get him out of here as quickly as you can.”

There was something on Steve’s face that showed he didn’t like that idea. He was too much a military man in that sense: you don’t leave a teammate behind. Natasha, however, gave Sam a steady nod. What Sam knew of her from Tony told him she was probably far more experienced at doing what needed to be done for a job. He was giving her the job of protecting ‘the asset’ in this scenario, and everything he’d heard from Tony suggested she was the best one for that.

That left Sam – and Loki, once he was inside – on demon detail, just in case Tony’s exorcism recording didn’t work.

With everyone in their assigned roles, they were all ready to go.

Sam knelt down in the bushes outside the broken down building that he could _feel_ the warding around. He turned his head towards where his big brother was hiding and gave him a small nod. They were ready.

The mask prevented Sam from seeing Tony’s face. However, he was pretty sure that Tony was grinning as he fired up the suit. A second later he was shooting forward and sending a blast that opened up a hole in the north wall.

That was the cue for everyone else. Sam darted out from his hiding spot and rushed in with Clint coming up beside him, the two playing back-ups to Iron Man for the moment, while Natasha and Steve went to the entrance on the east side, taking advantage of their distraction to slip in.

As soon as he was inside, Sam saw just how many demons were there, and he was privately glad he’d brought the backup he had. This wouldn’t have been something he could’ve done on his own. There were at least fifteen demons in here. They were looking pretty pissed, too, especially as Tony’s suit started to play the exorcism recording.

Clint was already firing even as he made his way inside, and Sam had to trust to those two to break down the wards and get in. Sam’s focus needed to be on the demons. There were a few that were already making their way to Tony, and those were the ones that Sam had to take out first.

There was a part of Sam that always came out in a hunt. It was the side of him that had been trained to do this since long before he even knew what the supernatural was. That part came to the forefront, and any fears and insecurities went into the background. The rage that Sam felt underneath his recent grief only helped fuel that along. Sam was a blur of movement as he dove for the first demon and took them out with one surprising blow.

What came next was a blur of movement – thrust, dodge, strike, slice, stab, dodge, fall, get back up, keep moving, keep going, keep fighting. At one point he heard the exorcism stop, and he jerked his head in time to see Tony and his suit flying out through another hole in the wall.

However, that was also the time that the last of the wards were broken, or at least enough of them to no longer restrict Loki.

The god appeared in the middle of the room. He held a blade in each hand and wore a grin that was positively chilling. “Oh good,” Loki said, shifting into an offensive crouch. “You left me some fun.”

Sam shifted to duck under a demon’s fist and used it to rise up and stab the knife up through its gut. As he pushed the demon to the ground – pointedly ignoring the blood now all over him – he rolled his eyes, making sure Loki could see it. “Is that what we’re calling this?”

“Oh yes,” Loki said fervently.

That was all the attention Sam had to pay for any banter. He was swarmed by three demons at once, and there was no time for anything but fighting. Time and time again Sam got knocked down only to climb back up again and again, always ready, always moving. Once, his knife was knocked away from him, and a demon got him slammed up against the wall – Tony flew by in his suit right as the demon was leaning in to grin at Sam and promise “I am going to…”

The impact of the suit jerked them both, but it ripped the demon away, and he and Tony were gone. Sam didn’t hesitate to dive for his knife again and keep going.

It wasn’t until he heard a sharp voice shouting out “Sam!” that the hunter finally looked up.

He found Loki standing a few feet away with one hand on Clint, and his other stretched out Sam’s direction. “We have him – let’s go!”

That was all Sam needed to hear. He kicked out at the demon closest to him and dodged the next blow, slipping down into a slide that sent him straight at Loki’s legs. The instant they touched, the world shifted around them, everything fading away and then the Tower blinking to life around them.

As soon as Sam realized they were back in the Tower, he looked around, eyes scanning the room and taking in the important people. Tony was there, just stepping out of his suit, and Kevin was nearby, shaking like a leaf under Natasha’s hand. Seeing that those two, at least, were here, Sam was free to sigh and let go of Loki’s leg, slumping down to lay flat on the ground. “Anyone hurt?” he called up, not bothering to open his eyes again.

Bruce was the one to answer him. “A few bruises, a couple lacerations, nothing serious.”

Thank God. As he lay there, Sam found himself letting out a slightly tired, slightly hysterical laugh. They’d done it. It’d been a bit of a mess, and he wasn’t happy with the idea that he’d taken civilians into this, and it definitely sounded like someone – it had to be Kevin – was starting to work their way towards hyperventilating, but _they’d done it_. They’d gotten Kevin free and got him to safety. He was okay. He was alive.

_Yeah, great, the prophet is safe. What about Dean?_

Sam pushed that thought down, though he wasn’t able to get rid of the punch of guilt that twisted his stomach.

He heard movement, and then caught a whiff of familiar cologne, sweat, and grease, telling him who was now squatting down beside his head without him even having to open his eyes. “We’re all fine,” Tony said easily. His hand came up to brush a bit of Sam’s hair back from his face. “What about you, puppy? You’re looking pretty comfy down here on the floor.”

“I hate demons,” Sam said.

“Yeah. You kinda look like you’re wearing about… four of ‘em.”

If it hadn’t required opening his eyes, Sam would’ve shot Tony a scathing look. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of how much demon blood was all over him.

Anything that Sam might’ve said was cut off when Kevin’s high pitched “ _What is going on here?_ ” cut through all conversation. “You… you people… what’s going on? _What’s going on_?”

No time to lay down, apparently. Sam fought back the urge to groan and pushed himself upwards, his body aching with each movement. Maybe lying on the ground hadn’t been the smartest plan. He was dirty and aching, and not moving allowed time for all those aches to make themselves known. He heard Bruce trying to reassure Kevin, and Steve as well, but Sam knew what it was like to be with demons, and he knew how it felt to not trust anyone because you had no idea who was possessed and who wasn’t.

“Kevin!” The sound of Sam’s voice cut through the others, drawing the attention of the prophet right over to him. Sam didn’t waste time trying to reassure him, though he could see that just seeing him was enough to relax Kevin some. With one hand Sam reached up and tugged at his shirt until his tattoo was visible and unbroken. “I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re safe, Kevin. We got you out, and you’re safe now. No one’s going to get you here.”

Kevin’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head. “Since when do you work with the _Avengers_?”

“Perhaps we can save the inquisition until after we’ve all had a chance to clean up?” Loki suggested.

That sounded Heavenly. Sam closed his eyes and raised his fist in solidarity of the idea. It was something he would’ve done with Dean, and that would’ve made his brother laugh at him. Here, it had Tony snorting and ruffling his hair.

As Natasha and Steve began to lead Kevin away, Steve’s low voice talking calmly to him the whole way, Tony kept his hand on Sam’s hair long enough to ruffle it again and get his attention. “We’ll take care of your prophet, kiddo. You go on, get a shower, get some rest. You look beat. Want me to send Brucie on up to see you?”

Sam tiredly shook his head. “No, I’m all right.” Nothing that a bit of rest wouldn’t cure. Once he got to his floor, he’d get rid of these clothes, preferably _burn them_ , and then have a nice, long shower. Maybe then he’d be able to think a bit clearer. Once the smell of demon blood wasn’t all over him.

With a heavy sigh, Sam accepted Tony’s hand and pulled himself up to his feet.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in this chapter for Cage talk - if torture and the like triggers you, be careful. But also... might be a good idea not to read this series, as anything after Cage time for Sam is going to involve torture/Cage talk/potential violence triggers. But this chapter is *sad* guys, an I'm sorry about that :(

It’d been a hell of a day. Clint stood down in the archery range that Tony had put here for him in the Tower and worked on soothing his brain down with some shooting. It was always a surefire way for him to relax and work through whatever was in his head; and after recent events, there was quite a lot in Clint’s head to work through.

A whole lot had happened recently. Finding out that Tony had a damn _brother_ , and that said brother was the very guy Clint had had a rather fantastic one-night-stand with. Finding out that the supernatural actually _existed_. Then, then, if that weren’t enough, actually fighting against the supernatural? Against _demons_?

That was something that Clint had never thought he’d get to say he’d done.

Yet it was something that Sam could say he’d done quite a lot in his life.

Thinking about Sam had Clint sighing and letting off another few shots. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think about the floppy-haired giant. On the one hand, damn, it was kind of nice to see him again. He’d been a fun night for Clint to have, one of those good things you hold on to when the rest of the world goes to crap around you. But finding out who he was, and what he did with his life, and then getting a chance today to actually see it? That was… it was _insane_.

Then again, people would probably say that about his life. He worked on a team of superheroes and fought monsters and aliens. What were a few demons in the face of that?

Clint let another few arrows fly, one right after the other, each one hitting their mark perfectly.

Something had been up with Sam right there at the end. Sure, it could be just that he was more injured than he was letting on and was trying to hide it, but he hadn’t moved _too_ awkwardly. He’d shown signs of injuries, yeah, but not debilitating ones. Then again, Clint didn’t know him well enough to know all his tells yet, no matter how well he’d gotten to know that body in their one night. But he just had this feeling that it was something else. Something… more. The way that Tony had looked as Sam had left the room, the worry just barely showing through in the tightness of his eyes, had said that Tony had seen it too.

It was quite a change from when he’d been fighting. Fucking hell, if Clint hadn’t already been attracted to the guy, he definitely would’ve after that. Sam was _gorgeous_ when he fought. And yeah, that probably said something about Clint, that he was turned on by a guy who was stabbing demons left and right and moving through it all like a dancer, but hey, everyone had their quirks and kinks. People who were capable of killing him was one of Clint’s.

As Clint notched another arrow, he was started out of his thoughts by JARVIS interrupting him suddenly.

“Agent Barton, if you have the time there’s something that requires your attention up on the helipad.”

Clint let his last arrow fly and looked up towards the ceiling in a habit he could never quite break. “What’s going on, JARVIS?” Even as he asked, he was collapsing his bow and moving to gather up his arrows. Any thoughts of Sam and the fight with the demons were gone from Clint’s mind.

He was surprised by a short hesitation from JARVIS. When the AI spoke again, Clint had already made it inside the elevator, and the doors were closing. “I believe that the Young Sir is in need of your assistance. He appears to be in great emotional distress and is not answering my calls to come downstairs and out of the rain, and Sir and Master Loki are currently out of the Tower.”

There was no need to think about who the ‘Young Sir’ was. There was only one person that Clint had ever heard JARVIS address so formally who _wasn’t_ Tony.

But, JARVIS was calling him because Sam was in _emotional distress?_ That didn’t exactly seem like a job for someone like Clint. Steve, maybe. Or Bruce. Even _Thor_. That guy could be a pain in the ass sometimes, and he had a hell of a sunshine view on life, but he was a great listener. Clint looked up at the ceiling again as the elevator continued upwards. “JARVIS, are you sure about this?”

“With Sir and Master Loki gone from the Tower, you are the next available person that the Young Sir is comfortable with. I do not believe he’d be comfortable with many coming upon him right now. I believed you to be the one most likely to reach him, and to not cause him any extra undue stress.”

Translation: he figured Clint was likely to be buddy-buddy enough to get Sam to listen, and smart enough not to trigger the guy.

Man, this whole thing just kept getting better and better.

Still, it didn’t even occur to Clint to insist that JARVIS get someone else. He just rode straight up to the rooftop.

When Clint stepped out there, he didn’t see Sam right away. What he noticed first was the wind that was whipping around them strong enough to make Clint wrap his arms around himself. A storm was building off in the distance; there were dark clouds over most of the sky. Twilight had started, which only served to make things even darker. A rumble of thumber signified that the storm was going to be a doozy. It was already loud, and it wasn’t even on them yet.

Then, as Clint made his second sweep of the roof, he finally caught sight of Sam. What he saw was enough to have his breath catching in his throat. _Fuck_.

Sam was sitting right at the edge of the roof, legs dangling off the edge, wearing what looked like a too-thin jacket. His position, combined with JARVIS’s fear of Sam being in _emotional distress_ , it wasn’t painting a good picture.

Clint made sure that his footsteps made plenty of noise as he walked forward. He also angled himself so that there was no way Sam would able to miss seeing him coming. No need to creep up and scare the life out of the guy sitting on the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York.

When he got close, he saw the small little tilt of the head, just enough to let him know that Sam saw him. Slowly, carefully, Clint sank down to sit beside him. “Hey, Sam.” His greeting got him nothing. No words, not even an eye twitch. _Not a good sign. Oh, fuck, what do I do here?_ Clint licked his lips and turned his head enough to better be able to watch Sam’s face. “Is, uh… is everything all right? I mean, JARVIS is a bit worried about you. He said he called to you, but you didn’t come in.”

Still no answer. Sam just continued to stare at the storm off in the distance that was slowly creeping towards them. It was eerie, how long he went between blinks. If Clint didn’t know any better, he’d say the man was a statue. Or, he would if he couldn’t see the tiny little tremors running down his body.

Though Clint had no idea what had happened to this guy aside from the disappearance of his brother, and the fragility that Tony had implied about him, something told him it wasn’t good. There was an air around Sam that reminded Clint of agents who’d been in the field too long. Who’d seen and done too much and were haunted by it. That usually only happened to the older ones, though. The ones who’d had a lifetime of service. What had happened to this guy, a kid who was like ten or more years younger than him, that could create that kind of reaction?

The archer was startled from his introspection by the sound of Sam’s voice. It was soft, almost taken away by the breeze, and Clint’s aids almost didn’t pick it up. “I used to love thunderstorms.” Sam shuddered a little at the next distant boom of thunder. “My brother and I used to go deliberately drive in them just so we could find someplace to watch. He loved how it made the whole car shake when the thunder was loud.”

Was that what this was? Grief over the loss of his brother? For some reason, Clint had thought it was so much more. He watched Sam’s face, not quite sure if he should say anything. For the moment silence seemed to be doing best. He had a feeling that the guy just needed an ear. Someone to listen as he got it all out. There was no telling if he was even together enough to hear anything Clint had to say.

The next boom of thunder was even louder than before and followed almost instantly by a brilliant flash of light. Clint watched from the corner of his eye as Sam flinched. His expression – it looked older, suddenly. Far older than it usually did. The hunter gave a visible swallow, throat bobbing. “Did you know that there’s a Cage in Hell?”

“Until we met you, I didn’t even know Hell actually existed,” Clint said softly.

Sam let out a shaky breath. He never looked away from the storm, though. His eyes stayed transfixed. “It’s where God put Lucifer when he rebelled from Heaven. He locked him away there to keep the world safe. Now… now Michael’s in there, too. The both of them, together. We locked them away down there.” This time his flinch was much harder when the lightning flashed.

Where this was going, Clint had no idea, but the sick feeling building in his stomach told him that he didn’t want to know. That he wasn’t ready to know. “Sam…”

“Their fights were like this,” Sam spoke right over top of him as if he hadn’t even heard that Clint was speaking. “Big crashes and bright lights. So bright, it’d blind you, and you’d be left in the dark just listening to it. Listening and waiting for it to turn your way while hoping it wouldn’t. That they’d forget about you for a little while longer. But it was never long enough. They’d remember I was there and they… the storm would be on top of me. _Inside_ of me. And I… I…”

Oh, sweet God. Clint couldn’t – he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand here and listen to this. The major part of him was horrified at what he was hearing. If he was hearing right, if Sam was telling the truth, the thought was the single most horrifying thing he’d ever known. Listening to it, it hurt, physically hurt, and at the same time, it felt so wrong. Because he knew there was no way Sam would be saying all this if he was in his right mind. He’d given them the bare bones before, but he hadn’t offered up anything like this. There’d been no mention of being inside a cage in Hell.

Clint took a risk and reached out to lay a hand on Sam’s shoulder. When it did nothing, caused no reaction, he slid that hand along his back to his other shoulder and carefully gripped down. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get you inside.”

He was surprised when Sam shook his head quickly. That was more of a response than anything he’d shown so far up here. “I can’t.” Those eyes finally turned to look at Clint, and there was that aged look there, and pain, and such openness it left the archer stunned. “I need… I need to be outside, Clint. Please. I just, I need to be…”

“Free.” Clint filled in. And he got it, suddenly, with sickening clarity that threatened to take his breath away and bring back up the food he’d eaten. If Sam really had been trapped in a cage with two archangels, fighting archangels, was it any wonder that he wanted to be outside when those memories hit? Somewhere open and free where he could remind himself that he wasn’t trapped anymore.

He couldn’t just leave Sam standing here, though. Not with the storm rolling in that would likely bring rain, and not in his current frame of mind.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Clint had a solution. He used his hold on Sam’s shoulder to tug him, not towards the door that would lead inside, but in the other direction. “C’mon, I know somewhere we can sit.”

Much to Tony’s amusement, there were a few rooftop spots that Clint had set up for himself, and there was one that was perfect to take Sam to right now. There was just enough of an overhang that they’d be sheltered from any incoming rain while at the same time allowing Sam to have his open and free feeling. It’d also keep the guy away from the edge, which was probably a good idea right now.

Very carefully, and very slowly, Clint drew Sam back from the edge of the roof, and then he coaxed him over to the little hidden nest. As soon as they were seated under the overhang – enough to shelter them from any coming rain without making Sam feel trapped – Clint dug around for the bag he’d hidden in the nearby vent and the blanket that was there as well. That, he pulled out and wrapped around Sam’s shoulders, drawing it together in front of him.

Sam didn’t fight him. He curled up into a small ball that no man that size should be able to compact down into. He did burrow a little under the blanket, though, rucking it up towards his ears.

Once Sam was settled, Clint got comfortable as well, making sure he was close enough to offer warmth without making Sam feel crowded. There was no way in hell he was going to leave the guy alone now.

Clint’s thoughts were racing with what he’d just learned. Sam had been inside a cage – a cage in _hell_. Holy shit… how the hell was he still walking? Still functioning? More than that, though: how the ever-loving fuck had he gotten down there?

That was a question that Clint surprisingly got an answer to. After a little while of sitting there, Sam spoke again. This time his voice was just a bit steadier than it’d been before. A bit more _there_.

“I went into the Cage knowingly,” Sam said softly, startling Clint. He didn’t give the archer time to process anything. He just kept talking. “I did some screwed up things, and I made a lot of mistakes. Those mistakes were what let Lucifer get free. It was my fault he was able to walk the earth and do all the damage he did, and I was the one meant to house him, so I figured I was the only one who could stop him. So I, I let him in, and then I got control, and I threw us down into the Cage. I didn’t plan on taking Michael with me… that just sort of, happened.”

Pausing, Sam shrugged a little. Then more thunder hit, and he winced and jolted harder than ever.

Immediately, without thinking, Clint brought an arm up and slid it around Sam’s shoulders. As soon as he realized what he’d done, he got ready to pull away, only… Sam leaned into him. After a brief hesitation, Clint opted to leave it there. Considering what Sam was saying right now, he probably needed all the support he could get.

Sam’s eyes were wide as he stared off into the distance. It was like he was fighting to keep from closing them. Forcing them to stay wide open. “Time runs differently in hell. Faster. Dean… Dean went for four months, but for him it was… it was forty years.”

“Jesus.” Clint couldn’t keep the word locked behind his teeth. Despite his intention to just listen, he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t keep in the question that he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know the answer to. “How long were you…”

“Eighteen months.”

The math was automatic. While Clint knew he wasn’t the smartest kid in the bunch, he knew numbers, and he knew math. Archery was a hell of a lot of math that was done quickly inside of his head. What he came up with had Clint yet again fighting not to throw up. If four months was forty years, that was ten years a month, which meant that eighteen months… _one hundred and eighty years_. Holy fucking shit. Sam had been stuck in a cage with two archangels for _one hundred and eighty years_.

A pained sound slipped up Clint’s throat. He turned his head and pressed his forehead against the side of Sam’s head. “Jesus _fuck_ , Sam.”

“I don’t remember all of it,” Sam said, like that made it better. Like it somehow made it okay.

“I’m so sorry. Holy shit, man. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Sam shrugged, and that just broke Clint’s heart even more. That this guy, this man who had fucking saved the world – from the sounds of it, knowing exactly what he was getting himself into when he did – would just shrug it all off, act like it was no big deal. Like it was just somehow _okay_. That gripped at Clint’s heart and fucking _wrecked_ him.

The wind blew a little stronger, and the storm was definitely over them now, the thunder getting louder. Yet neither man moved. They sat there together, holding on to one another until the storm was pretty much on top of them.

Clint didn’t hear the nearby door open, but he did sense someone coming towards him. He lifted his head away from Sam’s and turned in just enough time to see Tony and Loki both appear out of the dark that had fallen all around them.

The sight of Sam had relief and worry both mixing together on Tony’s face. Between one breath and the next, it was gone, almost as if it’d never been there. A soft, gentle smile took its place, and Clint got to watch as Tony softened in a way that he never seemed to do with anyone else. Not even with Loki; not like this. “There you are,” Tony said, making sure his voice carried. He walked right up to them, Loki a step or two behind him, and came to a stop right in front of Sam. Clint stayed in place and watched as Tony squatted down in front of his little brother. “I was wondering where you went. Isn’t it time for all little puppies to be in their beds?”

Soft tremors started to run down Sam’s body. They’d been there before, just a bit, but seeing Tony seemed to have set them off anymore.

Sam must’ve mumbled some response, or his face gave something away, because Tony’s face somehow became _softer_. “I know, pipsqueak. But I wasn’t planning on sending you back to yours. Why don’t you come lay down with me for a while? You know you love my bed. It's the best bed in the tower.”

This time, Sam’s answer was at least loud enough for Clint to hear. “I'm not... I don't...”

Even Clint could see the way that Sam's eyes darted briefly to Loki and then back down again. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Loki caught on just as quickly as Clint did, and the way that the trickster gentled in a mimicry of Tony’s look was startling. Only Tony, or talking about Loki’s kids, ever put that kind of look on Loki’s face. He squatted down at Tony’s side, putting himself in clear view of Sam, and made sure to catch his eye before speaking. “You are quite welcome there, Samuel.” A hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Anthony persists in trying to put his cold feet against me. I cannot say I wouldn’t protest a buffer.”

“Traitor!” Tony cried out, mock dramatically.

As Tony and Loki both moved in, Clint drew his arm back from Sam slowly, pausing to rub his back a little before pulling away completely. It earned him a grateful look from Tony when the engineer was out of view of Sam’s face, as well as a quickly signed _thank you_. Clint nodded his head and settled back to watch as the badass hunter who had taken out so many demons today, the guy who’d stood here quietly and calmly and told Clint the kind of horrors no one should ever have to go through, turned into a little kid in the face of one Tony Stark.

Sam seemed smaller again, only not in that depressing way that he had when he’d tried to make himself small beside Clint. This was different. Sam wasn’t trying to hide or to present less of a target or anything like that. He was just, smaller in the face of his big brother, easily leaning into Tony and trusting that Tony was going to take care of everything for him. He startled a little at Loki’s presence, head flicking up when Loki slid an arm around him, but even with their backs towards Clint, the archer could tell how Sam turned his head as if checking in with Tony first. When Tony gave a small nod, Sam’s body relaxed.

The trio slowly made their way inside, leaving Clint staring after them and wondering how much more there was to this guy. Spies were supposed to be the ones with secret lives and layers upon layers inside of them. Yet, the more Clint got to know Sam, the longer the guy was here, the more that Clint realized that none of them ever saw anything more than Sam wanted them to see.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd post TWO chapters - hopefully this one makes up for the sadness of the last one!
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading this. Your reviews are so amazing and wonderful and I LOVE IT

Morning found Sam standing in the elevator, waiting as JARVIS took him to the common floor where Kevin had been set up last night to rest. According to JARVIS, the prophet had gone into the room that Steve and Natasha had taken him to, locked the door, scrawled wards all over the walls despite JARVIS insisting that the place was warded, and then fell down on the bed and crashed. Hard.

Sam felt kind of guilty for the fact that he hadn’t come down to check on Kevin last night. He just… hadn’t been in the best of headspaces. Having all that demon blood on him, testing his patience that way, had made Sam more on edge, as had the guilt inside him at saving someone who wasn’t Dean. Add in the thunderstorm that had rolled in, and it’d all knocked down any defenses Sam might’ve had.

A flush covered Sam’s cheeks as he thought about his trip up onto the roof last night and the companion who’d stayed up there with him. There was no way he was going to be able to face Clint after freaking out on him like that. At least Tony and Loki had come and taken him away from there eventually. Poor Clint had probably been dying for someone to rescue him.

Tony and Loki had made the rest of the night bearable for Sam. They hadn’t laughed at him, hadn’t mocked him, and they hadn’t made it seem weird that a grown man was being brought to his brother’s bed. Tony just dragged Sam down in there the same way that he always did, forced him to strip down to a t-shirt and his shorts, and then yanked him right into the center of the bed.

Having Tony at his side to help soothe him was a sensation that was still strange sometimes, but familiar. Having Loki in bed with them made it a little bit weirder.

Loki must’ve sensed it somehow, because he’d pressed himself up against Sam’s back, pushing them a little until Sam and Loki were back to back – leaving Sam and Tony face to face with a pillow squished between them. Then the trickster had quietly and easily informed them “If either of you snores, I shall have no issue shoving you directly out of bed.  We used to sleep like this on hunting trips, and Thor and Fandral often snored loud enough I’m surprised we did not scare away every nearby animal.”

The story had made Sam smile. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew what Loki was doing with that. He was letting Sam know that lying like this was okay, that it was something he’d done before with _his_ brother and his brother’s friends.

Sam was shaken from his thoughts when JARVIS deliberately made the elevator _ding_ upon their arrival on the common floor. A smile curved Sam’s lips, and he reached a hand out to stroke it over the wall of the elevator before stepping out. “Thanks, J.”

“My pleasure, Young Sir.”

With one last smile for a nearby camera, Sam started to make his way down the hall towards the bedroom that JARVIS had said Kevin was in. It didn’t take him long to get there. When he reached it, he took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself. Then he lifted a hand and rapped his knuckles against the door. “Kevin? Hey, it’s uh, it’s Sam. You up?”

There was a short pause, during which Sam debated whether or not Kevin was actually awake or even going to answer him, and then suddenly the door was pulled open, and Sam found himself face to face with the very prophet he’d promised to protect and failed so miserably with. Kevin looked different; little things that Sam hadn’t noticed yesterday. A haircut – practically a _buzzcut_ – and there were huge bags under his eyes. Despite the fact that JARVIS said Kevin had been asleep for at least ten hours by now, the kid looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

Guilt gnawed at Sam’s stomach and twisted up his insides. “Uh… hey, Kevin.”

“Sam.” Much to Sam’s surprise, Kevin seemed to actually light up a little, like the sight of Sam was a good one. Then again, if all he’d seen were demons lately, seeing _anyone else_ had to be a good thing. As if to back that up, Kevin stepped backward and opened the door a bit wider, and he sighed heavily. “Oh, man, is it good to see you. Not that I’ve really been up to seeing anything since I got here, but it’s kind of nice to know I didn’t just dream you or something like that, you know?”

Sam’s lips twitched a little with the faint urge to smile. He walked into the room, stepping off to the side so that Kevin could close the door behind him. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. How, um… how’re you doing, Kev?”

The teen rubbed a hand over his face in a gesture that showed just how tired he still was. “Been better. But I’ve, ah, I’ve been worse too, y’know?” He gave a bitter sounding chuckle that no teenager should be able to make, and he dropped down on the foot of the bed. “A lot worse.”

There was no way Sam could hold back his wince. He stuffed his hands down into his pockets and tried not to rock on his heels. He’d come in here for a purpose, though, and it was one that he wasn’t going to be deterred from. No matter how hard it was proving to be. With a deep breath, Sam made himself look right at Kevin as he said: “I’m sorry, Kevin.”

“What?” Kevin looked up in surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“I’m sorry. I sort of… you vanished, and Dean and Cas disappeared, and I just… I bailed on you, man, and I’m sorry. It took me a while to, um, to get my head screwed on straight enough to actually shape up and try and find you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You got me out of there,” Kevin said, shrugging. “That’s what matters, right? You came and got me.”

Sam licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah.” He paused, not quite sure how to ask this next bit, only to end up deciding on just being blunt. “Do you… do you know why he took you?”

To Sam’s surprise, the teen huffed out a sarcastic sounding snort. “Oh yeah.” Without waiting for Sam to say anything, Kevin turned and leaned over the side of the bed, actually pulling up the blankets and… was he reaching under the _mattress_? Sam watched, eyebrows up, as Kevin rooted around under the mattress. A second later he pulled out something that had Sam’s eyebrows climbing even higher. A very, very familiar looking chunk of stone was in Kevin’s hands. Only, Kevin quickly proved it wasn’t as familiar as Sam had expected. “Crowley found the demon tablet, and he wanted me to translate it.”

“A _demon tablet_?” Holy shit. _Holy shit_. Sam stared at the rock as Kevin cradled it to his chest. “What’s… what’s on it?”

Kevin looked down at the tablet he was holding. “As far as I can tell? Everything. There was stuff about Hell gates, about how to open them…” he paused, and his head tilted a little, eyes slanting up towards Sam. “How to close them. Like… permanently.”

The shocks just kept growing and growing. Sam knew he was probably gaping, he just, he couldn’t believe it. No way could he believe it. Closing the gates of Hell – permanently? They could _do that_? It was like… like everything they could’ve wanted. If they could close the gates of Hell, it might, _maybe_ , make up for some of the shit that the Winchesters were responsible for. That _Sam_ was responsible for. They could correct a mistake from all those years ago when they’d let the gate to Hell get opened in the first place!

Kevin was half-smiling up at him when Sam focused again. “Yeah. Figured you’d probably like that.”

“That’s…”

“Amazing? I know, right?”

The words were right, but there was an edge to them that caught Sam’s attention. One that had him looking at Kevin’s face a little more closely. When he did, it wasn’t hard to read what was written there. The slightly defeated slump to the teen’s shoulders, the heaviness in his eyes, the way his smile didn’t quite make it. Sam took all those in and didn’t have a hard time figuring out where they came from. “You want to go home.”

Those simple words had Kevin’s head snapping up. Then, a second later, it was like he deflated. His whole body slumped, and his head dropped again so that he was staring down at the tablet. “It’s not like I’ve got a choice.”

Sam didn’t even think about it as he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to Kevin’s side. He sat down on the foot of the bed at Kevin’s side, and though he didn’t reach out the way he did with others he knew better, he did try and lean in enough to offer silent support. It must’ve been enough, because Kevin leaned in a little as well, like he was trying to soak it up.

For a moment Sam let them sit in quiet. He just stayed at Kevin’s side, arms resting on his thighs and hands dangling between his knees. Only when Kevin seemed a little bit stronger did Sam speak.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Kevin. This life? It’s not easy to get out of. Believe me, I’ve tried. But… but that doesn’t mean that you have to let it consume you.”

“I’m more than just a hunter, though. I’m a prophet.”

“And I’m the Devil’s meatsuit,” Sam shot back easily. “Destined to be worn by Lucifer so he could end the world. Yet I’m here, and he’s down in his Cage. We’re not what destiny decides for us, Kevin. Our lives are what we make them. You’re a prophet, yeah, but you’re more than that. What you do with your life is _your_ choice. What do _you_ want?”

Kevin stared down at the tablet for a long moment. He was clearly thinking, his lips moving now and again like he was sounding out the words he couldn’t quite figure out how to say. Sam stayed silent at his side and just waited. His patience eventually paid off. “I want to help close up Hell, and get rid of demons,” Kevin said softly. “But I… I want to be safe. I want to go find my Mom and make sure she’s safe, too.”

“We can do that,” Sam said, smiling.

With Kevin gaping beside him, staring at Sam like he wasn’t quite sure what drugs Sam was on, the hunter looked forward and called out, “Hey, JARVIS? You think you could set up a video call with Tony real quick? I’ve got a few things I want to ask him.”

“Sir is in his workshop right now,” JARVIS let them know, after a brief pause. “One moment. He is putting away his current tools.”

It really only was a moment. There was no chance for Kevin to recover enough to start speaking before a hologram popped up in front of them. Tony was most definitely in the workshop. His personal, private one, too, judging by what Sam could see behind him. The man looked like he’d been up for hours already, despite the fact that Sam knew he’d been up only an hour or so, just as long as Sam had been. He was grinning broadly, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it a few times. The smear of grease right at his hairline only backed that up.

All in all, he looked like pure _Tony_ , no sign of the flashy Tony Stark or Iron Man anywhere in sight. The bright grin that lit his features only cemented that image. “If it isn’t my puppy and his new little friend! What can I do for you this morning, my fine little friends?”

There was a low squeak from Kevin that had Sam turning and smothering his smile before it could be seen.

“Holy shit. You’re really Tony Stark,” Kevin said, voice a little higher pitched than normal.

That earned him a snort from Tony. The engineer was watching Kevin with open amusement. “Sure am, kid.” Then his face lit up, and his smile grew big enough to crinkle his eyes as he turned his gaze to Sam. “Aww, Sam, he’s so cute! He’s like a hyper, shaky little chihuahua. Try and make sure he doesn’t piddle on anything, would you? I just got the place cleaned.”

Sam had to chuckle when that got another squeak from Kevin. “Can we stop traumatizing him for a minute, Tony? We wanted to talk to you about something.”

The way that Tony instantly focused right on Sam was a sensation that the hunter still hadn’t managed to get used to. That intense focus that made him so amazing at his inventions was all turned Sam’s direction now. “What’s up?”

“Say I wanted to take someone and set them up somewhere safe, somewhere that wouldn’t be easy for a few black-eyed bastards to break into, and maybe keep said person and their Mom under the radar without completely infringing on their way of life,” Sam said. He smiled, just a small half-smile. “Would you have any suggestions on that?”

“Oh yeah.” A grin lit Tony’s face, just a bit dangerous, and there was a faint laugh in the background that told Sam that it wasn’t just Tony who was there right then. It surprised Sam a little, though he didn’t say that. It also told him more than words just how important Loki was to Tony. The fact that he was let in his personal workshop was a huge thing.

Loki came around the edge of the screen and slipped up to stand behind Tony. Long arms slid around Tony’s waist, and he rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder. Amusement twinkled in his green eyes. “You do realize who it is you’re speaking with, do you not, Samuel?”

“Why do you think I called?” Sam shot back. He liked the way it made Loki and Tony both grin at him. Seeing that look had Sam smiling instinctively back at them. “So, what do you think? Would you mind helping us get a house all set up and warded to keep the Trans safe?”

It was like those words finally made it all click in Kevin’s head what exactly was happening here. He was clutching the tablet closer to his chest now, while openly gaping at Sam. Color flooded his cheeks. “ _Sam_!” Kevin’s eyes darted over to the screen and then back to Sam again. “You can’t… you can’t ask _Tony Stark_ to just, just _get us a house_!”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony interjected quickly. “I’ve been trying to get that kid to spend my money since we _met_! Though, it shouldn’t really surprise me that you finally come and ask me for something awesome, and it’s for someone else.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t need a house. If I want to stay somewhere for a while, I can just come stay with you.”

To those that didn’t know Tony well, they wouldn’t have understood the way his eyes twinkled at that or seen how his expression softened the slightest bit. But Sam saw it, and he smiled back at his big brother. Still, he was Tony, and people were present, which meant that he didn’t respond the way he might’ve if they were alone. Instead, he scoffed and snorted at Sam. “Well, duh. My places are the best. Why would you want to stay anywhere else?”

“So you think you can help us?”

Tony’s eyes twinkled.

* * *

When it came time to make plans and get everything in order, Tony was one of the best people to go to. The fact that he had no qualms about spending his money helped, yeah, but it was more that Sam knew Tony would be able to help them come up with plans inside of plans that would help make sure that Kevin and Mrs. Tran were as safe as humanly possible.

Case in point – just one day later and Loki was preparing to take both Steve and Kevin to gather Mrs. Tran and head to the place that Sam and Loki had spent the last day warding. Loki had also placed wards on Kevin, and would put some on Mrs. Tran as well, making sure to tell Kevin as he did: “It should not only prevent Crowley from using any means, demonic or magical, to track you, but it should mask your presence as a prophet from demons.”

Sam wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what Tony had bribed Loki with to get him to take Steve along. The way that Tony had explained it to Sam – “If we’re gonna dump a ton of shit on this poor woman, we might as well make Steve do it. People can’t get mad at him. It’s something with that boyish, aw-shucks ma’am demeanor he’s got. If there’s anyone that can help explain this to her and get them all somewhere safe, it’ll be Loki and Steve.”

In the end, all that was left for Sam to do was to smile and reassure Kevin it was going to all be fine. “You’ll be all right,” he told the too-young prophet. Far too young to be stuck in this kind of life. That knowledge had Sam giving Kevin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, conscious of the strength he knew he had. “I know it feels crazy, but you’re as safe as we can make you, and the place you’re going to is gonna be all set up and secure. You’ll be all right.”

“You really think Crowley won’t find me?” Kevin asked nervously.

He could lie to Kevin here, try and make him feel better, but Sam just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Crowley’s a dick, but he’s a pretty smart one. He seems to have this tendency to pull crap out of nowhere. But…” Here, Sam gave Kevin’s shoulder another squeeze, and he offered the most reassuring smile he could. “You’ve got quite a few people on your side this time, helping keep you safe. It’s not just Dean and me looking out for you. You’ve got Tony helping, and a Norse god who’s warded you, your home, and who’ll ward your Mom, too. We’re not just dumping you off somewhere and hoping for the best. We’re doing everything we can to keep you guys safe.”

Surprisingly, his words seemed to work. Kevin relaxed underneath his touch and even offered up a hesitant smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

When it came time for everyone to go, it was with a lot less tension than had been there before. Steve and Kevin each took hold of one side of Loki, and the trickster gave a last smile to Sam, a kiss blown to Tony, and then they were gone.

Sam stood staring at the spot they’d been for a long moment. His thoughts were racing around, and without Kevin here to see him, he allowed himself to wonder if they had really done the right thing here. Was Kevin actually going to be safe? Or had Sam just essentially abandoned him? If Crowley came for him and Sam wasn’t there to protect him…

A voice interrupted Sam’s spiraling thoughts. It wasn’t the one he’d expected, though. Of course it wasn’t. Instead, it was the one that Sam had been trying so hard to avoid ever since his little freak-out up on the roof.

“Don’t worry about the kid,” Clint said, drawing Sam’s eyes up towards him. He found the archer standing nearby, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. There was a lazy grin on his lips and no judgment or anything else in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at Sam any differently than he usually did. If anything, he smiled even more when Sam’s eyes finally reached his face. “He’s gonna be fine. I might not always like Loki, but if there’s one thing that guy knows, it’s how to stay alive. If I had to hide, he’d be the one I’d want helping.”

Sam gave a little nervous, half-smile of his own, and hoped that Clint couldn’t see just how nervous he actually was. “At least he’s safe now, right? That’s what counts.”

A quick look around the room showed that everyone else had pretty much left them. Even Tony had melted away – the traitor! That left Sam alone here with Clint whereas moments ago there’d been plenty of people to at least be somewhat of a buffer. Sam stuffed his hands down into his pockets and tried not to hunch his shoulders.

Something in his body language had Clint quirking an eyebrow at him. Sam held his breath and waited; waited for the questions, the comments, or a million other things that would’ve been totally understandable.

Instead, what he got was a bright grin. “Want some coffee?” Clint asked, pushing himself off the wall.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“Want some coffee?” Clint repeated. He made his way over towards the kitchen and, presumably, the coffee pot. “I’ve been told I make a pretty damn good cup. Better’n that sludge that Cap makes, that’s for damn sure. Though it helps when you’ve got these fancy ass beans that Stark buys. That man’s a coffee _snob_.”

The strangeness of the whole situation left Sam feeling off-kilter. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected. He’d never thought that Clint would just… blow it all off like this. Like Sam hadn’t spilled his guts about some of the most terrifying things in his life.

Unsure, Sam slowly followed after Clint. “He’s… he’s not. Not really. He likes the nicer stuff, and he’ll mock motel coffee when he visits me, but he’ll drink pretty much anything. Especially while working.”

Clint let out a husky laugh that sent pleasant chills down Sam’s spine. It didn’t help when the guy twisted to look back, and he wore that same bright grin that Sam remembered from the night they first met. “Yeah? I can definitely see that.” Clint turned back to the coffee pot, which was good because it hopefully meant that he hadn’t seen the way Sam had was blushing. “Y’know, I bet you’ve got all sorts of stories about him.”

“You probably do too,” Sam pointed out.

That got him another laugh. Clint pressed the last button on the coffee maker and turned around to face Sam, leaning back against the counter as he did. “Oh yeah. Wanna trade?”

There was more in that offer than a simple exchange of stories. After living with Dean his whole life, Sam was an expert at nonverbal communication. Half of the way he and his brother talked to each other was in body language and in gestures that hid the words neither one of them could say. Clint was offering Sam an olive branch here; he was letting him know that what he’d learned the other night wasn’t going to be held against him. That he wasn’t going to push.

This time, Sam’s smile was a whole lot more honest, and a lot brighter. “I’d like that.”


	10. Chapter 10

With Kevin gone, it left Sam free to focus as much of his attention as possible on finding his brother. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to be making any sort of headway on that. Nothing that Sam or Tony looked into came up with anything. Clint and Natasha put out feelers in the spy world, but with each passing day that went by with no new information, they didn't hold out much hope. Not even Loki's attempts were coming up with anything.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Sam was surprised to realize that two months had gone by and they'd come up with absolutely no leads on Dean.

Tony's plans, however, to build up a support system for Sam – those were going quite well.

Sam was starting to get closer and closer to the other Avengers. He was still hesitant about them, sure. Hunting had taught Sam that getting close to people put them in danger. But he was starting to make friends with them. He and Steve went out running each morning. Tony made sure Sam was there at every meal - which had the side benefit in the eyes of the others in that it dragged Tony to each meal as well. Tony also made sure to get the copy of Sam's prescription from the hospital he'd been in and get them filled for him. They weren't a cure, but they could at least help.

For Sam, it was a strange sort of between place that he felt like he was living in.

Not once did Sam give up on trying to find his brother. But... he felt guilty sometimes because with each passing day he found himself starting to like being at the tower more and more.

He liked being able to see Tony so much, talk with him, eat with him, laugh with him. And he liked the Avengers. They were nice, and Sam was getting comfortable with the lot of them. He enjoyed his conversations with them, watching movies with Steve and Thor, the playful flirting between him and Clint. He loved the science binges that he got sucked into with Bruce and Tony. And though he hadn't taken Steve up on the offer to spar yet, he still went running with the man each morning, and that was good too. It helped.

But the most surprising friendship had to be between Sam and Loki.

After their rocky start, they’d begun to build a friendship together. One that started out building on their shared love for Tony and their understanding of one another in ways that no one else could quite manage. Neither one had ever found someone who could so easily understand the kind of things that they’d gone through. The pain they’d experience. While being with Thanos and being with Lucifer weren’t the same, there was enough of a similarity to bring the two together. Being trapped and tortured by someone stronger than them, someone who had the ability to make sure that they didn’t die, no matter what was done…

In Loki, there was a lot that Sam saw that reminded him of himself. That need to not appear weak in front of everyone else. To always try and be strong. Neither Loki nor Sam wanted to be judged for what they did, or what had been done to them, or for breaking, or for any of it.

But with each other, they didn’t have to worry about that. There were sympathy and understanding, but no pity or judgment.

Sometimes the two sat together and said not a word the entire time they did. Other times, they’d share knowledge. There was no knowledge that Sam would ever not want to know, and Loki seemed fascinated despite himself with some of the things Sam told him. Plus, Loki really liked to point out what was a lie and what wasn’t, or throw in random knowledge of his own to fill in the blanks of what Sam didn’t know.

Sam would tell Loki about hunts, and in turn, Loki would tell him about magic. Sometimes, he even pushed at Sam to let him try and teach him some. “You possess the power, if not the skill. It’d be easy to train you,” he pointed out, more than once. Sam would only shake his head.

But there were other times where one or the other would speak. It could be deliberate; a terrified start and an outpouring of words that needed to be said to someone. Other times, it would come in the quiet, the two of them just sitting together, often on Sam’s balcony, and the words would just come.

In one another they’d found a sort of kindred spirit. Someone who knew what it was like to be different, to be a ‘monster’ in the eyes of others, who had made mistakes that had cost so many lives. Someone who had been brought lower than anyone else around could understand, and who had come out the other side broken but alive. Sam hadn’t expected to find a friend like this, but he was more than grateful for it. In the past two weeks, he’d become closer to Loki than he’d expected, and he was happy.

Tony was, too. It seemed to make something in him light up each time he saw them together. Tony seemed to take their friendship as something positive, or amazing, or both. Sam knew it meant a lot to his brother to have them getting along. They were both important enough to him, he wanted them to like each other. The friendship they’d made in just this short time thrilled Tony.

Not so much everyone else.

Steve seemed suspicious of it, though Sam suspected that was just because he was suspicious of Loki. As was Natasha. Hers was likely more a general suspicion of everyone as well as a healthy respect for those she considered dangerous. Clint looked like he didn’t quite know what to make of it, but he wasn’t protesting it.

No, the one that seemed to have the most problems with it was Thor.

He didn’t seem all that happy with the way that Sam and Loki would shut themselves away from others to talk sometimes. When he walked past the living room and found the two sitting on opposite ends of the couch, long legs stretched out alongside one another, he grimaced and moved on. When he tried to come speak to Loki once he was stopped by Clint, Bruce, and Tony, who all warned him to leave the two alone, which ended in Thor storming away.

It all finally came to a head one morning when Sam walked into the kitchen, half asleep and hoping desperately for coffee after a night of nightmares, and he found Loki and Thor facing off against one another. Thor had his hand curled around Loki’s bicep, and his whole stance made it clear he wasn’t going to back down.

It wasn’t hard for Sam to see the way that Loki was holding himself, the tension that only ever seemed to show up when something really triggered him. There was a wild look in his eyes that said that Sam likely wasn’t the only one to have had nightmares last night. Loki looked like he was on edge and ready to start hurling magic, or maybe it’d be his brother he hurled, right out the window. Either way, Sam knew he needed to step in before Loki did something he’d regret later.

Sam made a split second decision. Before he could regret it, he called out to the two gods in front of him. “Is there a problem here?”

Two sets of eyes shot his way. One of them darker and stormy – angry, yes, but also concerned – and the other pair bright and wild.

Thor’s lips thinned a little at the sight of Sam. “This does not concern you. Tis a matter between my brother and I,” the thunder god said firmly, making it clear just how little his presence was wanted here.

Any other time and Sam might’ve let that stop him. But with Loki looking at him like that, there was no way Sam could walk away. It just wasn’t in him. So, steeling himself, Sam walked right up to Loki’s side. Then he reached a hand up and laid it on Loki’s arm, right above where Thor was gripping. Sam gave his friend a crooked smile. “Why don’t you go find Tony? I’ll make sure no one bugs you guys.”

There was a sound of protest from Thor that the both of them ignored. Loki’s eyes flashed with gratitude, and then he was gone.

The instant he was, Sam quickly called out: “JARVIS, lockdown wherever they’re at and make sure no one can get in until either Tony or I give permission.”

“Of course, Young Sir.” There was approval in JARVIS’s voice. Clearly, he hadn’t liked the conversation that had been happening before Sam came in. He’d grown quite fond of Loki, too.

Sam turned to face Thor, and he wasn’t surprised to see just how furious the guy looked. Sam immediately held his hands up in a gesture of peace, and though he wanted to take a step back, he held his ground. “I’m sorry, Thor. I know you love your brother, and I know you want to help, but right then there was no way you were helping anything.”

“He is my brother,” Thor growled at Sam. “How we speak is no concern of yours.”

“It is when I can clearly see my friend panicking,” Sam fired back. He saw as his shot struck home and made Thor flinch. Gentling his tone, Sam slowly lowered his hands down. He wasn’t blind; he knew what this had to be about. “Listen, Thor, I get it. Trust me – I do.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Sam’s lips curved up into a smile that held no real mirth to it. “I remember what it was like when Dean got back from Hell. I wanted him to talk to me so damn badly, and he just, he couldn’t. He talked to Cas sometimes, I found that out later. But he couldn’t… he never really talked to me about it, and I hated that. I hated it so much. Because I just wanted to, to be there for him, you know? I wanted to help him.”

Light was slowly building behind the storm in Thor’s eyes. He looked less angry and more aching. “Then you do understand.”

“I do,” Sam agreed, nodding. “But… I also know better now.” He saw Thor was about to protest and quickly held a hand up to try and stop him. “Just listen, please. I never… I didn’t understand why Dean wouldn’t talk to me before. I was his brother, right? He should be able to talk to me about anything. If he could talk to an angel he barely knew, why couldn’t he just talk to me?” Drawing his hands in, Sam stuffed them down into his pockets as he gave a mirthless chuckle. His eyes dropped down and away, not quite able to look at the others around him. “I didn’t understand then, but I do… I do now. Because even though Dean’s been to hell, spent forty years there, I can’t…I’ll never be able to talk to him about my time down there. I’ll never be able to tell him what I saw there. Do you know why?”

“No,” Thor said softly.

Sam made himself look back up and meet the eyes of the subdued being in front of him. “Because he wouldn’t understand… and because I don’t want him to see me that way. He’s my brother, and no matter what he does, he’s always going to be my brother. I’ll always love him, even when I’m furious with him. If he knew the things I’d done, the things that were done to me… it’s not something I could live with. He’d pity me, and he’d hate himself for ‘allowing’ something like that to happen to me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I can’t live with his guilt on top of my own. I can’t sit there and watch him be guilty about something that wasn’t his fault. I can’t put out the energy to make him feel better about my pain. But if I told him, that’s exactly what would happen. Just like it’s exactly what would happen if Loki told you.”

“Should I not feel sorrow when my brother hurts? Should I not rage that this has had to happen to him?”

This time, Sam’s smile was a lot gentler, and so was his gaze. “Of course you should, Thor. Your heart’s going to break over it because you love him and that’s what happens when someone we love is hurt. You’re going to be pissed off that this had to happen. But right now, you can do all that while still looking at Loki like you used to. Like he’s the same person. If he tells you, he runs the risk of you never looking at him the same again. He doesn’t have to worry about that with me. There’s not a thing he could tell me that I haven’t experienced.”

It felt so strange to say some of these words out loud. Words that he hadn’t dared utter to anyone. Even knowing that there was a good chance that JARVIS might let Tony see this, that Tony might ask, Sam didn’t keep the words inside.

Thor looked to be thinking about his words, right up until the end there. Then he gave Sam a look that was almost pitying. “My brother is old, Sam Winchester. Far older than he looks.”

Sam’s lips twitched. “So am I. And I spent a lot of those years under the hand of a master.” Without giving Thor time to respond to that, Sam shrugged his shoulders and kept going. “”Trust me, there’s not a thing he could tell me that was done to him that would shock me. And the things I say, they don’t shock him. We don’t pity each other because of it. We see it, and we recognize how far we’ve come. How strong it’s made us.”

After a brief hesitation, unsure whether his touch would be welcome or not, Sam reached out and clasped Thor’s shoulder. The guy was huge in pretty much every way, and it felt kind of like grabbing hold of stone, but Sam gave him a soft squeeze anyways.  “Just be there for your brother, in whatever way he’s comfortable letting you, Thor. That’s all you can really do for him right now.”

He didn’t give Thor time to say anything. Not that he thought the god would. As Sam walked away – figuring he could go get his coffee elsewhere – he left Thor behind with a rather thoughtful look on his face.

* * *

That afternoon, Sam got to experience his very first call-out for the Avengers, something that he hadn’t even thought about when he came to stay there.

It was seemingly something that Tony hadn’t thought about either, judging by the way he looked at Sam once they got the call. JARVIS was likely calling up parts of the suit, and Tony was hesitating, leaning towards the docking station without going, his eyes worried as they landed on Sam. There was plenty enough in that look for Sam to read, and he was already shaking his head. “Don’t even think about it.”

“It’d be better if you did,” Tony said. “Safer.”

Sam arched one eyebrow at him. Was _Tony_ of all people really giving him that advice right now? _Really?_

Sighing heavily, Tony threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine!” Then he curled a hand in and pointed a finger at Sam, backing away towards the docking station as he did. “But you stay in the jet with Brucie! You don’t have any armor, despite how often I’ve tried to give you one. So, you can, I don’t know, work comms or whatever it is smart people do who aren’t in the middle of it.”

That seemed to be that, at least in the eyes of Tony. Of course, it wasn’t that easy when Sam made his way to the Quinjet that was waiting on the roof.

Steve looked up the instant he heard Sam’s footsteps boarding the jet. He was already in full regalia, and his mouth was open as he went to speak, only to cut off when he realized that it wasn’t whoever he’d thought it would be. For a brief second Steve’s eyes went wide; then he was shaking his head, one hand up, and was making his way to Sam. “Now hold on a minute there, Sam.”

Oh, this was going to be interesting. Sam didn’t stop walking until he was fully on the jet. He ignored Natasha and Clint, who were up in the pilot and copilot seats, and focused his most innocent expression on Steve. “Yes?”

“Now, I understand that you might want to help, but our kind of fight is a little bit different than what you’re used to.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sam agreed easily. He saw Steve relax a little, and Sam worked to keep his smile from growing as he continued on. “The things I fight against tend to not die unless you kill them in very, very specific ways. What you fight always seems perfectly capable of being killed, it’s just not always easy to do it.”

Steve grimaced, but he didn’t back down. If anything, he took on this sympathetic, understanding look that felt just on the edge of patronizing. It didn’t get any better when he opened his mouth. “I understand that you want to help, son, I do. But we’ve got a pretty darn good team here, and we’re good at what we do. This isn’t the kind of fight that innocent people should be involved in.”

“That’s quite a double standard you’re promoting there, Captain America.” Sam put just a hint of a bite in his words here; enough to let Steve know he wasn’t going to just back down on this. “If your, what, years’ worth of experience fighting alien and technological bad guys makes you qualified to follow me on a mission against demons, then I’m pretty sure my _lifetime_ of experience would qualify me to at least sit inside a jet and _watch_ your fights, wouldn’t you say?”

There was a whir, and then a thud as Iron Man came in to land in the back of the jet. Sam didn’t bother turning around as he heard his brother coming up behind him.

Tony’s voice came out through the suit, still managing to carry a hint of amusement to it. “I’ve learned it’s best not to argue with him, Cap. He was pre-law at Stanford back when we first met, and he’s a quick study. You won’t get anywhere with him.” Still, Tony stopped off at Sam’s side while Bruce and Thor climbed in, and the back of the jet started to close. He held something out for Sam to take, waiting until he was reaching for them to explain.

“This is a com unit, so put it in your ear. You’ll be able to hear everything, and you’ll be connected to JARVIS. And this…” he pulled out a necklace from somewhere on his suit and held it out. “Is from Loki. I use it when we wanna go out without someone recognizing me. It’s like a little pocket illusion. It’ll keep anyone from seeing it’s _you_ under there since I’m pretty sure the world still thinks you’re a dead serial killer.”

With a grin, Sam took the charmed necklace and slid it over his head. Then he put the earpiece in his ear. Tony clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder one last time, a lot heavier than normal with the weight of the suit behind it. “All right then, kiddo. Let’s get to work!”

* * *

It turned out their case was with a villain Sam had heard plenty about from Tony – on more than one occasion. The guy didn’t have a name, but according to Tony “He’s got a bit of a hardon for Doom and me. He’s trying to create robots based off of both our tech and failing pretty miserably. We haven’t caught him yet, whoever the hell he is, but he’s gonna get sloppy enough one of these times.”

From what Sam understood, the guy liked to use robots to try and take out major cities and somehow use them to take over? Sam wasn’t entirely sure of what the guy did or how he did it. What he knew, and what he was concerned about today, was the fact that the guy usually had a ton of robots, and caused plenty of property damage as well as killing plenty of people.

Today, they were heading to the far side of the city, which was why they were in the jet. Or, at least, most of them. Once Tony got done delivering his gift to Sam, he’d taken off, Thor with him, and the two had raced ahead to try and do what they could to get things under control so that the rest of the team would have time to get there.

Sam settled in with Bruce at the side of the quinjet where a set of screens were. There, video was coming in from Tony, sharing what he saw with the rest of them, and not for the first time Sam marveled at his brother’s ability to handle all that without throwing up. “I have no idea how you do it, Tone,” Sam told him, watching as Tony rolled to the right and ducked around another building. “I’d probably throw up if I tried any of that.”

“ _You got no idea what you’re missing, kiddo_ ,” Tony said, a laugh evident in his voice. “ _I’m gonna get you out here in a suit one of these days, you just see!_ ”

“In your dreams, Robo-Boy.”

All laughter and teasing cut off when Tony finally reached the fight scene. On the video, Sam watched as there were suddenly a ton of robots. They were in the air, on the ground, terrorizing the people and smashing cars. There had to be at least thirty of them that Sam could see as Tony flew by them. Sam knew his mouth was hanging open just the slightest bit. The words of the others as they laid out their plan just washed over him. For a brief moment, all he could do was sit there and stare at the wanton destruction happening in front of him.

It wasn’t until Bruce laid a hand on his arm that Sam jerked out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d gone; not until he looked up and found that the quinjet was landed – damn, that must’ve been one smooth landing! – and they were alone.

Bruce was watching him, little wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes showing his concern. “Are you all right?”

“What… what is the point of this?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

Over the comms came the sound of Clint’s voice, only just a little out of breath. “ _You mean aside from destruction?_ ”

This was… it was like demons, and yet in its own way, it wasn’t. “What’s the _purpose_?” Though Sam knew the others were all listening in, he turned to Bruce, the one right in front of him, the one he hoped might be able to help break it down for him. Bruce seemed good at that sometimes. He was good at taking things – scientific, emotional, a whole range of things – and breaking them down in ways that just _made sense_. “Monsters, demons, they always have a reason for doing something, even if it doesn’t make sense at first. But this guy… what I’ve heard about him says he’s all about world domination. But how does this…” Here Sam paused, gesturing at the chaos on the screens. “This doesn’t make sense. How does this help? He’s not doing anything but breaking things and hurting people. How does that help him rule the world?”

“ _I knew there was a reason I enjoyed your company, Samuel,_ ” Loki’s voice said suddenly over the comms. There were a few surprised sounds mixed in from the others, as Loki hadn’t been with them before this. He didn’t sound the least bit out of breath, though as Sam looked at the video again, he caught sight of hints of green here and there. “ _There is no true purpose to this. If this mortal truly wished to take over the world, he would not do something as senseless as this._ ”

“Sometimes what makes sense to other people doesn’t make sense to us,” Bruce said. “To him, this might be what he thinks world domination entails. Small attacks to cause as much damage as humanly possible. Or maybe he sees this as a dry run of some sort to test out his robots and see how we hold up against them, so he knows how to improve.”

That was logic that Sam could get behind. Still, as he watched the video once more, he couldn’t help but think that he agreed with Dean on this. Monsters, he understood. People? People were insane.

Sam watched the Avengers as they worked their way through the battle with a skill that he had to admit was impressive. It was strange to watch people work together as a group like this. Stranger still to be patched in so that he could listen to them. It was an odd sort of dichotomy to see how seamlessly they all moved and fought together while listening to the way they ribbed and snapped at each other the whole time.

Tony was the worst. Of course. He liked to poke fun at his teammates while they were doing just about anything. Steve seemed to be his favorite target.

As Tony yet again flew past Steve, taking out the robot in front of the guy, he let out a laugh and called out “ _Too slow, Grampa!_ ”

Sam looked over at Bruce, sharing a smile between them. “Grampa?”

Another laugh came over the line. It was Clint this time, though – Sam recognized that half-husky sound. “ _Well, yeah. Add in all that time he spent on ice, and he’s, what, in his nineties now_?”

“ _I don’t think the years I was frozen can count against me_ ,” Steve said dryly.

He was immediately met with protests and insistence that, yes, those years very much did count. Sam listened to it all with a little smile on his lips. It showed the ease he’d found with these people when he didn’t even feel a twinge as he teased “If we’re counting that kind of stuff, does that mean I get to be the big brother?”

Tony snorted loudly. “ _Not likely, puppy_.”

Whatever teasing might’ve come next was cut off when a sudden _SCREECH_ rent the air. It wasn’t coming from the fight, though. Sam’s head snapped up when he realized it was coming from _right above them_.

Bruce went tense at his side, and Sam’s whole body froze. There was another sharp screech, a thud, and then a low “Oh, shit!” from Sam before the world seemed to go insane.

Everything felt like it happened all at once. A giant hole was torn through the top of the jet, making room for three robots to come pouring through, and the man beside Sam suddenly went tense before his eyes flashed green and everything started to change.

Sam knew enough to get the hell out of the way. He launched out of his seat, flying towards the front of the quinjet, getting himself out of the way just in time for the Hulk to make his appearance. It was the first time that Sam had ever seen the being up close like this and he had to admit, it was a bit awe-inspiring. Hulk rose up from where Bruce had been and let out a roar that shook the jet and had Sam slamming his hands over his ears.

The robots that had come inside were grabbed and smashed down to bits in seconds. Hulk smashed them completely before throwing them down to the ground.

The rest of the Avengers were shouting in Sam’s ear, demanding answers, saying things that Sam couldn’t quite hear past the pounding of his own heart. Yet, despite that instinctive fear at being up close to something so clearly larger than him and _really_ pissed off, Sam didn’t flinch as those green eyes found him. Maybe it was stupid, and maybe Sam was a bit influenced by Tony’s rather casual way of talking about the Hulk, but Sam found himself slowly pushing up to his feet.

Hulk watched him carefully, not charging towards him, but not leaving either. That gave Sam a little bit of hope.

“Hey there,” he said evenly. It was the voice he’d used with victims so many times on the job; the one Sam pulled out with people who were too panicked to remain calm during a hunt, who needed someone to be steady and sure for them until they could get their feet. “You know, I’ve heard all about you from Tony, but I have to say I wasn’t, ah, I wasn’t expecting you to be quite so awesome. Thanks for taking care of those guys for us.”

Hulk looked down at the broken robots and then back up at Sam. “Hulk, smash!”

There was a hint of something to those words that Sam thought might be pride. It had Sam smiling despite himself. “Yeah, man. You smashed the shit outta them.”

The pride on Hulk’s face grew at that.

The sounds of the Avengers still shouting and the noises of the fight reminded Sam that there was something a whole lot more important going on out there right now. “It sounds like your team could use a hand out there. What do you say we go lend them a hand?”

In Sam’s ear, Steve was loudly telling him “Sam, you stay at the quinjet!”

Surprisingly, that sentiment was echoed by Hulk. “Nice human stay. Hulk go!”

“Sam.” Lifting one hand, Sam tapped on his chest. “I’m Sam, Tony’s little brother. And I’m not staying here by myself for more robots to come and try to pick off.” Those words were directed to more than just Hulk. He meant for Steve to hear them, too, and understand that Sam wasn’t going to sit in the quinjet like a sitting duck.

With the courage of someone who had faced off against monsters of all kinds, Sam pushed away from the cockpit and strode towards the Hulk without letting an ounce of fear show on his body. He walked right up to him and tilted his head to grin at him with an ease that would’ve proved to any of the other Avengers just how much Sam really was Tony’s little brother. “Come on, Hulk. Feel like giving me a ride to the ground?”

Getting wrapped up in a giant green arm just seconds before the Hulk went leaping from the broken jet was something Sam knew he was never going to forget.

* * *

For all the negative things that Sam had heard about the Hulk from Bruce and from things on TV, working with him was a whole lot different than what Sam had been expecting. If he were honest, he’d sort of expected a mindless beast. Someone more concerned with smashing than with pretty much anything else. What he got was someone who, yes, wanted more than anything to smash the bad guys, but who was quite eager to protect the ‘tiny humans’ all around him.

Hulk was aware of his size and what damage it could do. That showed in the way he’d carried Sam out of there, and how gently he’d set him down. He was also a whole lot smarter than anyone had given him credit for. When Sam looked around and took in the scene, he turned back to Hulk and told him “I’m going to get those people over there out of here and towards safety. Can you help keep the robots off us?” and Hulk gave a happy roar before jumping after the robots nearest to the group that Sam had pointed out.

From there, the two of them worked together. Hulk kept the robots back, smashing them to bits whenever he got a hold of one, and Sam ran through the streets gathering up whatever people he could and getting them the hell out of the way.

At one point, they came across a broken down building, and Sam was surprised when Hulk stopped Sam with one big hand. Then he reached out and lifted up broken pieces of the building until Sam was able to see the bodies huddling in a little hole down inside.

Once there was enough out of the way, Sam scrambled into where the people were staring up at them with shock. “Come on,” he told them, holding a hand out to the adult male in the group. There were three teenagers with him, two girls and one boy, and the man had been sheltering them with his body as best as he could. “Let’s get you guys out of here.”

Over the comms, Tony’s voice suddenly came through. “ _Annnnnnd… that’s the last of them! We’ve officially destroyed the robots, people!”_

 _“SHIELD is on their way in for cleanup,”_ Steve said in reply. “ _They’ve got medical teams set up a few blocks south of your position, Sam._ ”

Sam finished pulling the guy with him forward and reached out to the teenagers next. “Got it. I’ve got a group of people here with a few minor injuries. I’ll send them along.”

About the time that Sam got those people down from the rubble and headed towards the SHIELD medics, Tony was just coming in, stopping to hover above Sam and Hulk both. His face plate flipped up, and he was grinning at the two of them. “If it isn’t my favorite lean green fighting machine. Hey there, big guy! You taking care of my puppy for me?”

Hulk looked confused, eyes going down to Sam and then back to Tony, and Sam sighed. “He means me. I told you, he’s my brother. He likes to be annoying. I think it’s how he shows his love.”

“Aww, puppy! You know me so well!”

Something in their conversation must’ve clicked for Hulk. He grinned fiercely up at Tony and proudly told him “Hulk help Sam-puppy!”

It took everything Sam had not to groan out loud. _Goddammit!_ Leave it to Tony to convince the freaking Hulk that Sam was a puppy! With a sharp glare for Tony, who was laughing his damn ass off, the jerk, Sam turned to Hulk and smiled up at him. He reached out and patted his arm, not even thinking anything of the casual touch. “Yeah, Hulk, you were a huge help. I wouldn’t have saved half these people if it wasn’t for you. You were great.”

“He’s right, Big Guy, you were great,” Tony chimed in, which only made Hulk’s grin even bigger. “Now, you feel like grabbing a celebratory drink with us, or you think you’re ready to let Brucie back out for a little while so he can help us with the science cleanup? We’ve got a few robots we need to look at, and I could sure use his help.”

Sam watched with amazement as Tony slowly but surely talked the Hulk back down until he actually began to shrink. The transformation back to Bruce was slower, smoother.

In the end, if left poor Bruce standing there swaying on his feet, clad only in a pair of pants that Sam realized hadn’t ripped when he’d grown, nor were they too big now. Tony must’ve actually made the stretchy pants he’d been talking about for weeks and weeks now.

Bruce looked confused as his eyes drifted all around them. Then they settled on Sam and it was almost like Sam could see as Bruce remembered _something_ – how much did he know about what the Hulk did, Sam wondered. “You…”

“You were great,” Sam said, smiling gently.

“We were all awesome,” Tony chimed in. “But I say we congratulate ourselves back at the tower. I’m in the mood for pizza. Who wants pizza?”

There was nothing Sam could do but grin at him. He knew that he was likely going to get yelled at by Steve once they got back to the Tower, that the others weren’t going to be happy with him, but for the first time in quite a while Sam found that he wasn’t worried about it. He felt… good. Getting out here and helping people had felt _good_. He’d been without a hunt or something for far too long. This? No matter what Steve or the others had to say, it was worth it to feel like he was accomplishing _something_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you might not like my Hulk, but honestly? I had a BLAST writing him :D


	11. Chapter 11

It only took about an hour before everyone was back in the tower, had showered, and were gathered together on the communal floor to enjoy the pizza that JARVIS had ordered for them. Tony was more than happy to be stretched out on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and a plate of pizza on his lap, while his puppy curled up against him. Sam had his legs stretched out right alongside Tony’s, but he’d pushed himself a bit lower on the couch so he could compact himself down enough to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder.

Whether the rest of the Avengers realized it or not, today’s fight hadn’t been easy for Sam. It was the first time since Sam had gotten here that Tony had needed to go out and do something that put him at any sort of risk. The fact that Sam had stayed as calm as he had, and hadn’t joined the fight until Bruce hulked out was pretty impressive. Of course, it was also heartbreaking, because Tony knew it boiled down to Sam not wanting to show weakness, or not wanting to appear ‘stupid’ or something in front of other people. He worried way too much about getting made fun of for having feelings.

But now that the fight was over, and they were all safe, it wasn’t the least bit surprising to Tony to find that Sam didn’t want to be far from him. Which was why Tony had chosen the couch to sit on instead of the loveseat or the recliner like he usually did. He’d made sure he picked a space where Loki could join them, but where he could get all of his giant baby brother up with him, too.

It didn’t escape Tony’s notice, the way that Sam had turned toward him, or how one of his hands was fiddling with the hem of Tony’s Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt. Sam needed this – the contact – he just wasn’t the type of kid to know how to ask for it.

While the others started to gather up their own pizza and settle in around the room, Tony used his knee to nudge at the plate on Sam’s lap. “Eat. You’re about due for your next meds, and you’re not supposed to take ‘em on an empty stomach.”

That was one of Tony’s favorite arguments to use. He and Sam had talked about his meds, and they’d agreed that taking them was important. Quite a few of them, it recommended that he take with food, or not on an empty stomach, which gave Tony a handy excuse to get Sam to eat.

To the outside eye – and even, likely, to Sam himself – the younger Winchester probably looked like he was doing so much better. He was smiling more, he was eating a bit again, and he was making friends with the other Avengers. Hell, he and Loki had gotten really close in a really short time. But Tony wasn’t an idiot. He knew his brother better than anyone else. That meant he recognized the signs on Sam that said just how poorly he was still doing. The crappy sleeping schedule, the effort that JARVIS said Sam still had to put in sometimes just to get up out of bed, the grief that never fully left his gaze, the weight that they were still trying to put back on him. And none of that even touched on the nightmares, the triggers, and the leftover dregs of his recent bout with hallucinations.

Tony tilted his head enough to lay his cheek on the top of Sam’s head. The kid was healing, but it was slow, and Tony hated every bit of pain he had to watch him go through.

Sam picked up the piece of veggie pizza he’d chosen for himself and took another bite from it. He’d only managed to get through half a slice so far, compared to Tony’s _three_ , but hey, baby steps, right?

A cool hand brushed some of Tony’s hair back from his face. He tilted himself to look up, already beaming as he did, knowing exactly who it would be.

Loki slid down onto the arm of the couch right alongside Tony. One long leg crossed over the other, and he balanced himself perfectly without ever dropping his own plate of pizza. Like Sam, he’d taken some of the veggie one, and Tony couldn’t resist poking at them both for it. “What is it with you weirdos and your all veggie pizza?”

“Not everyone feels the need to ingest an entire pig in one single slice,” Loki shot back dryly.

There was absolutely no shame in Tony’s grin. Very deliberately, he lifted his slice up and took a huge bite of it. It earned him a half chuckle, half snort from Sam – win! – and a smothered grin and eye roll from Loki – another win! There was also the added bonus of making a few of the others laugh, and even Bruce smiled a little. Usually post-hulkout, Bruce was pretty quiet. Making him smile was an awesome thing. It all had Tony beaming around his bite of food. “Man’s gotta get his energy back after saving the city. _Again_.”

This time Sam gave an actual laugh, and when Tony looked at him there was a sparkle in his eyes, and his dimples were even showing.

So, naturally, that moment was when Steve had to suddenly remember that he had a giant stick up his ass, and come interrupt.

Steve sat in one of the nearby recliners – Natasha and Clint were on the loveseat, Bruce and Thor on the other couch – and he leapt on the brief lull in conversation to start the talk he’d been clearly wanting to have for quite a while. “We need to talk about what happened today.” The way he looked around at them all with such open worry and seriousness was almost enough to have Tony snorting.

As it was, he managed to dial it down to just rolling his eyes. “Don’t know what you wanna talk about, Cap. We’re just gonna go over it all at the briefing later. Why hash it out now?”

There was a brief moment where Steve looked almost hesitant. His eyes darted to Sam and then back around to the others. That was enough to have Tony’s body tensing and his own eyes narrowing. Oh, he better not be planning what Tony thought he was.

“Because,” Steve said slowly. He took a breath and straightened his spine, chin going up, and turned to look at Sam. “Not everyone here is going to be present at the briefing, and there are some things I think we need to go over.”

Tony opened his mouth like he was going to protest, only to get cut off when Sam put a hand on his arm. The hunter sat up so that his head was no longer on Tony’s shoulder. He wasn’t Tony’s floppy little puppy anymore. At that moment, he drew himself together and pulled on the masks that had helped him face down monsters and bad guys throughout his whole life. The fact that he felt the need to put that mask on _here_ , in his own goddamn _home_ , had Tony seething.

“What is it you think we need to talk about, Steve?” Sam asked calmly.

Steve straightened up as well, and he got that ‘Captain’ aura to him, the one that said he was in charge and he expected the people around him to listen. Usually, it made Tony laugh. Right then he wanted to growl. “I understand that you’ve led the kind of life that the rest of us can’t even begin to understand, Sam. Your experience as a hunter means that you’ve fought in the type of fights that very few people ever get to. But the enemies you’re used to, and the enemies we fight, they aren’t the same. In some ways, I think yours are deadlier, true. But that doesn’t make ours any less dangerous.”

“I never tried to claim they were,” Sam said.

Nodding, Steve leaned forward, arms coming down to rest on his knees. He clasped his hands together and fixed Sam with his most earnest look. “You’re right, you haven’t. But I don’t think you take ours seriously. You went out there with us today despite my protests, and you ended up in a situation you never should’ve been in. Not only did you put yourself at risk by being there, but you also put yourself at even greater risk afterward.”

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind just what exactly it was that Steve was referring to. He shot an apologetic look Bruce’s way, and it was met with a grimace and a nod that showed Bruce’s understanding and agreement. It pissed Tony off to see that. To see how much Bruce still seemed to think himself a monster, despite how many times they’d worked together now, and how often the Hulk had shown himself to be a good ally.

What Tony hadn’t counted on was just how much that mindset was going to piss off _Sam_.

Sam straightened up even more in his seat. The natural slouching he always seemed to do to make himself smaller was gone. He sat at his full height, and his expression had darkened, eyebrows drawing down. “You’re talking about the Hulk,” he said bluntly. When Bruce flinched, and Steve grimaced, it had Sam’s face darkening even more. “You know, for someone you claim as your teammate, you sure don’t have very much faith in him.”

It wasn’t Steve who spoke up to answer that – it was Bruce. “Hulk doesn’t exactly have the best track record here, Sam.” The words were hesitant, full of that self-deprecation that Tony hated to hear _so much_.

Hearing it seemed to affect Sam just as much as they did Tony. He looked over at Bruce, and there was something sad that flashed over his face. When he spoke, his voice was gentler. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

Bruce huffed out a broken excuse for a laugh. “I think you’re giving him too much.”

“Do you know the first thing Hulk did when he came out?” Sam asked. He didn’t give anyone a chance to actually answer him. “He smashed the robots that had ripped their way into the quinjet. Then he turned, and he just sort of watched me. Like he was curious. So, I figured, I might as well show him I wasn’t a threat, right, and I got up.”

It looked like Steve was going to say something there, but Sam just spoke right on top of him, continuing on in that steady and easy voice, his eyes never once leaving Bruce.

“I treated him like I would’ve treated anyone who got thrust into a new situation. I kept my voice easy and calm, and I brought up Tony, because I had a feeling he’d recognize Tony’s name, and I thanked him for helping me. And do you know what I saw on his face? _Pride_. He was _proud_ of being able to help. Proud that he’d saved me from the robots.”

“Or proud of breaking something,” Bruce threw out there, just a hint of bitterness leaking through.

The lines around Sam’s eyes tightened for just one moment. “You’re so set on seeing yourself as a monster.” The way that Sam said that word, how he and Bruce both gave identical flinches, broke Tony’s heart. As did the miniscule tensing he felt in Loki’s leg. Sam blew out a shaky breath, and his voice gentled even more. “You’re only as much of a monster as you let yourself be. Someone… someone really important told me once that it’s not what’s in us that makes us monsters – it’s how we use it.”

Warmth filled Tony’s chest. He didn’t think about it before he reached out and discreetly laid a hand on Sam’s back. Those were his words. Words he’d offered up to Sam during plenty of their middle-of-the-night talks.

Sam leaned back just the slightest bit into Tony’s touch, and he seemed to draw strength from it. “You’re so set on seeing yourself as a monster, seeing Hulk as a monster, that you can’t see all the good things you do. He _helped_ people today. When I first tried to leave the quinjet, he tried to get me to stay behind. To stay safe. When I didn’t, he took me with him, and he listened to me. He helped me rescue people. When I asked him to keep the robots away, he did. When I needed help lifting broken building pieces, he did. He even pointed out where people were that I didn’t know about. He was a _hero_ today, to a lot of people.”

It was clear to just about everyone how much Sam’s words were affecting Bruce. The small man was curled in on himself, and his eyes were closed like he couldn’t bring himself to look at them. The Hulk was such a hard area for Bruce to handle. Talking about him was never easy. Having someone speak so passionately about him, about the _good_ in him, was no doubt pushing at a few tender places inside. The heavy hand that Thor laid on his shoulder – a gesture that once would’ve been shrugged off – seemed to help ground Bruce just a little.

“We’re getting off topic,” Steve said, drawing the attention away from Bruce to give him time to compose himself. Then he brought the focus right back to where they’d started. “My point here was that this was a dangerous situation, one that you’re not trained to handle, and you shouldn’t have been anywhere near it. I’m not trying to be harsh here, Sam, but you’re not an Avenger. In the future, you need to stay back at the tower. I know it’s not easy…”

“No,” Sam cut in sharply.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

The whole room was watching them, everyone went quiet. Sam didn’t hide from the looks as he usually would, though. Any sign of friendliness had gone from his face, and he was actually glaring at Steve. “I said no.”

“This isn’t up for debate, Sam. Despite your skills, you’re a civilian, not an Avenger. We can’t take you with us.”

“I wasn’t asking your permission to go.” Sam’s lips thinned as he pressed them tightly together. Whatever words he was trying to hold back didn’t stay in for long. They burst from him with far more emotion than he likely wanted to show. “I may not be an Avenger, but it’s my big brother you have on your team. So long as he’s flying out into danger with the rest of you, you damn well better believe I’m not going to sit back here at the Tower and wait for news that something’s happened to the very last member of my family that’s actually alive. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but honestly? I don’t care.”

Sam’s plate was tossed down onto the coffee table, and he was up and on his feet in an instant, long legs carrying him quickly from the room.

Tony tossed down his own plate and shot a glare over at Steve while hurrying up to his feet. “Way to go, Cap.” Those were the only words he said before he turned and hurried out of the room to follow after Sam.

* * *

For the short head start he had, Sam had managed to cover some distance. Then again, JARVIS had probably helped with that, getting Sam into an elevator and moving him away from the room before Tony even got there. JARVIS always knew what was best for the mental health of those he looked after, and he and Tony had made a study of keeping an eye on Sam’s mental health specifically.

When JARVIS directed Tony down to the workshop, it wasn’t any real surprise. That was one of the few safe spaces that Sam tended to go to when upset. Especially when he wanted Tony in some way. Not that the kid would ever directly ask for him – oh, no.

Tony reached the workshop not long after Sam did, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that Sam had once more thrown himself into his research on trying to find Dean. It was his fallback for just about any amount of free time.

The sound of the door opening and Tony’s entrance into the lab was enough to have Sam curling inwards just a little bit. He was hunching himself almost like he was expecting some kind of blow, verbal or otherwise. It was moments like these that Tony well and truly _hated_ the Winchester family. Because – this? This wasn’t a result of Lucifer, or demons, or anything supernatural. No, _this_ was a result of growing up in a family where feelings weren’t allowed. Where Sam had lived on a ‘no chick flick’ rule, and anything he did that deviated from the norm wasn’t allowed.

Tony had grown up in a house like that. A house where he wasn’t allowed to have feelings or show any emotion. Where questioning people and arguing only served to get you in trouble. That wasn’t what he wanted for Sam.

Still, he knew Sam and himself well enough to know that walking in here and starting up a talk about their feelings wasn’t the way to go about things right now. Maybe later, when they’d both had the chance to relax, Tony could take the time to verbally reassure Sam that he was going to do everything possible to not leave him.

For now, he walked up to his little brother’s side and stopped there, tilting his head just right so that he could run his gaze over the information on leviathan that Sam had on the screen. Namely, the information about the weapon they used to take out Dick Roman.

“Double checking old facts?”

There was a short beat where Sam was clearly waiting for more; waiting for Tony to bring up what had happened or to scold him somehow.

Then Tony could practically see the mental shrug that Sam gave. “I feel like I’m missing something important here.”

“You thinking maybe it didn’t kill him?” Tony had wondered about that, too. If that, instead, maybe the attack had been more like a banishment. Could something as ancient and powerful as these things actually be killed? After all, angel blades hadn’t killed them, and those suckers were capable of taking out pretty much anything, at least so far as Tony understood it.

Sam gave a low hum; a sound he often did while thinking. “No, I’m pretty sure it did, judging by how the other Levi all seemed to disappear. If they were still running around, we’d know it. There’d be some sort of sign. But did it kill him, the way humans are killed? Was there something left that went somewhere afterward? Or did it just, I don’t know… completely obliterate him?”

That was a useful line of thought. From what Tony knew, when a monster died, they didn’t go to Heaven or Hell, they went to Purgatory. Had Dick gone to Purgatory? Had the resulting blast from his death sent all the souls in front of him to their own variations of the afterlife? Or had it completely wiped them from existence?

Tony was contemplating it long enough, and hard enough that he almost didn’t hear it when Sam spoke again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at your friend.”

The words were soft, just barely there, yet Tony still caught them, even if they took a moment to process. When they did, he made a point not to look over. _Don’t make a big deal of it. If you don’t, he won’t. Do, and he’ll clam right back up._ With that in mind, Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Meh. I haven’t yelled at him for like, three whole days. He was probably going into withdrawal.” When that got him the laugh he’d been aiming for, Tony grinned and leaned in to bump their shoulders together. “Don’t worry about it, pipsqueak. Now! Why don’t you and J show me what you got here, hm? Let’s see what we can do about finding your annoying big brother.”

With Sam smiling at his side, Tony turned his attention to the hologram in front of him, content with the way that the tension in Sam’s shoulders had lessened even more. Together, the two focused on the problem in front of them, two great minds doing everything in their power to try and find their missing family member.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Time has a way of passing us by even when we think that there’s no possible way we can keep moving forward. When Sam first came to stay with Tony, it’d felt like a part of his world had ended, and he hadn’t been sure how it was that he was going to move on. He hadn’t understood how the world kept spinning, and time kept passing when it felt like everything had ended for him.

Yet it did keep on, and as it did, Sam was surprised to discover that he was starting to find a small sense of peace within himself. The Tower – or, more accurately,  _ Tony _ – had always felt like home for Sam, but that sense of home was becoming steadier. It was stretching out to include the place, not just the man inside of it. That sense of home in a  _ place _ was something Sam had only ever had in the Impala.

Sam had been there for almost five months when he found himself almost completely alone for the first time since he’d come to stay there.

It was weird, but it was also kind of nice. Sam sat up on the roof – nowhere near the edge this time – and was content to just drink the beers he’d brought with him and stare out at the city all around him. Sometimes he came up here at night when Cage dreams got too bad, and he needed that sensation of openness. Other times, he just liked to feel the air, see the sky. Remember that he was here, and alive, and the world wasn’t in danger.

He’d worked his way through quite a few beers already when he heard a light clatter of metal nearby. The months that he’d stayed here had taught Sam what that sound generally meant. Because of that, the hunter didn’t turn. He stayed where he was and waited.

Sure enough, it only took a moment before a familiar voice said “You know, we gotta stop meeting like this. People will talk.”

One corner of Sam’s mouth curved up. He tilted his head back, weight propped up on one arm, and smiled up at the archer that was walking towards him. Ever since that first night, it wasn’t uncommon for Clint to slip out onto the roof if Sam was there. They didn’t always talk. Sometimes, he was just a silent sentinel, watching over Sam while he washed away the dregs of his nightmares. Other times, like this, he came over and plopped himself down right in Sam’s space.

Sam held up a beer, and Clint took it easily, not hesitating to pop the top and take a drink. He waited as Clint settled in on the ground next to him, mimicking Sam’s position with his legs stretched out and his weight balanced back on one arm. Once he was settled in, Sam turned to smile at him. “What brings you out here? I thought everyone was off doing something or other.”

He knew Thor and Loki had left to do something together, Tony and Bruce were down in the lab, and he’d thought that Natasha and Clint were doing their own thing.

Shrugging, Clint took another lazy pull from his beer. “Meh. Tasha went out with Pepper for a bit. Some girls’ thing, I don’t even know.”

Amusement curved Sam’s lips. Relaxing with Clint was easy. “So you decided to come pick on me?”

“What can I say?” The corners of Clint’s eyes crinkled up with the blindingly bright grin that he shot Sam’s way. It was unfair for one man to be so damn attractive, really. “I like a good view.”

There was no way that Sam could stop his laughter at the lascivious tone and the over-the-top wink that went with it. Clint seemed to flirt as easily as he breathed, just like Tony, and with just as much intent behind it. “You’re fucking terrible, man.”

Clint used the neck of his bottle to point at Sam. “You’re the one that hangs out with me. What does that say about you?”

“I’m crazy, didn’t you know?” The words didn’t hold the self-deprecating edge they usually might’ve. It felt easy to joke about it with Clint.

That might’ve had something to do with the fact that he knew Clint wouldn’t judge him. The archer just laughed and held his bottle up for Sam to clink his against.

It felt easy to sit there with Clint at his side, their shoulders brushing, and drink their beer together. There wasn’t a need to fill in the silence or anything like that. Clint acted like he had nothing better to do than just sit there at Sam’s side for however long they wanted. He was really good at doing that. No matter what shit Sam threw his way, the guy was still there, he still talked to Sam, still treated him like was some  _ normal _ person. Not a freak, or a disappointment, or an abomination.

Sam smiled as he turned his head to look at Clint again. He’d gotten lucky, getting to know this guy. He was a good friend.

He must’ve been staring longer than he liked, because Clint turned suddenly, one eyebrow up, humor lighting up his eyes. “Admiring the view?”

Sam could’ve laughed at that, taken the out that Clint was offering and played it off like he was just admiring him. Yet, instead of that, Sam found himself actually saying what was on his mind. It surprised him just as much as it surprised Clint. “I just… I wanted to say thanks.”

A little furrow appeared on Clint’s forehead. “For what?”

Talk about a loaded question. Sam looked down at his bottle and used his thumbnail to scrape at the label. To those that knew him, it was an outward sign of his stress. Something he did when he tried to put his thoughts in some kind of order, or give himself time to get prepared to say words he didn’t really want to say. “For um…well, for just, not treating me any different, I guess.” Sam felt his cheeks warm and hoped that his blush wasn’t visible. “I know I haven’t exactly been at my best since I got here, and you’ve, well, you’ve had my crap sort of dumped on you more than once. But… you still treat me like that guy you met in the bar, and I just, um… thanks.”

The way that Clint’s whole face softened was something that Sam got the feeling not everyone got to see. It put something warm around Sam’s heart, and down in his stomach. A feeling that he hadn’t gotten in a very, very long time. Long enough that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

“You  _ are _ still that guy I met in the bar, Sam,” Clint said. “All this crap? It doesn’t change that. You’re still  _ you _ .”

That warm feeling inside Sam grew even more. He found himself twisting a little more, and the move brought them close together. It was like one of those big, stupid movie moments. Clint was right there, just inches from him with that big grin on his face and those blue eyes shining, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean in and press their lips together.

For one brief, glorious moment, Clint kissed him back. He pressed in and angled his head up, putting more pressure behind it, and he stole Sam’s breath away.

All it took was the light brush of Sam’s tongue against the seam of the archer’s lips, and the spell was broken.

Clint jerked back so fast he almost fell over. His eyes were wide with something that Sam didn’t really want to put a name to. The two stared at one another, the world seemingly frozen around them, and then Clint blurted out “I’m sorry” before  _ bolting _ .

Sam sat there and stared at the empty space where Clint had just been only seconds ago. When he heard the vent slapping shut behind him, the hunter gave in and let his eyes close, let his masks crumple just the slightest bit.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid! _ What had he been thinking? Sure, they’d had a fun night together once, but that’d been before Clint had any idea who Sam even was. Now he knew the truth. He knew Sam was essentially a Stark. He knew about the supernatural, about some of the things Sam had done, the things that had been done  _ to _ him. Why on earth would Clint want anything to do with all of that garbage?

Pain made Sam’s next breath a bit shaky. Without opening his eyes, he slowly sat back, drawing in on himself. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sam?”

The sound came from one of the nearby speakers, not far from Sam’s head. He knew JARVIS could see and hear everywhere, and he’d talked to him quite a few times up here.

“Can you… can you maybe  _ not _ tell Tony about this?”

JARVIS’s voice was gentle when he answered. “Of course, Sam.”

“Thanks.”

Keeping his eyes closed, Sam drew his knees up to his chest and bent down, resting his forehead there. There was no one but JARVIS to see as he cursed himself for being stupid enough to try to grab something he should’ve known better than to ever reach for.

* * *

Sleep wasn’t easy for Sam to come by. His mind kept replaying every moment of that kiss and showing him time and time again all the things that he’d done wrong, all the signs he’d read wrong. He couldn’t chase away the image of the horrified look on Clint’s face. That haunted Sam and had him tossing and turning for most of the night.

By the time the sun was just starting to peek up over the horizon, Sam had given up on sleep.

He dressed in running clothes and set out to go for a run that would hopefully clear his head and help him finally settle a little. He needed to get it together before he had to deal with Clint again. Whatever came of it, Sam needed to be calm and ready. This was someone that he was currently living with. One of Tony’s teammates – his friend. Sam might’ve screwed up his own friendship with Clint. There was no way in hell he was going to let it affect everything else.

Running had always been a way for Sam to clear his head. There was something intrinsically soothing about the thud of feet on the pavement and the burn of his muscles as he pushed them to their limit. Partnering up with Steve lately had helped Sam to increase his stamina and endurance. This morning, he put that to the test, pushing his body for longer than he probably should of. But it was worth it when he finally got his mind to clear, even for just a few moments, and the hint of panic that tasted so sour at the back of his tongue finally started to fade away.

Naturally, he wasn’t lucky enough for that to last.

When Sam made it back to the side entrance of the Tower, the same one that he and Steve usually used, Sam almost tripped over his feet in shock when he saw that Clint was there. The archer was leaning back against the wall by the door in a display of casualness that looked so perfect it had to be forced. He held a Starbucks cup in each hand.

His head snapped up abruptly, alerted somehow to Sam’s approach. As soon as the two connected eyes, Clint was pulling the shutter down over his, locking away his emotions, and he pushed off of the wall.

Sam slowed from a jog to a walk and wished he had it in himself to turn around and take off again.  _ I don’t’ want to do this. I don’t want to do this. _ That was a coward’s way, though, and Sam wasn’t a coward. He couldn’t afford to be. So he kept walking and didn’t let himself flinch.

Once he got close, Clint offered him a small, barely there smile, and a quiet “Hey” that Sam instantly hated. Not once since they’d met had Clint ever been so quiet and meek.

Up close like this, Sam could see the hint of bags under Clint’s eyes, the tension in his body, all signs that his night hadn’t been any easier than Sam’s had been.

Clint held out one of the cups when Sam finally reached him. “Iced caramel macchiato?”

There was a petty part of Sam that wanted to refuse the drink. That part wanted to tell Clint to take the drink and  _ stuff it _ . Sam squashed that urge down quickly. He wasn’t going to make this any more awkward than it already was. Forcing his tone calm and his hand steady, Sam reached out and took the drink. “Thanks. You, um, you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s nothing.” Clint waved it off. “I just… can we talk, Sam? Please?”

Again, Sam had to squash his initial reaction. He drew in a breath to steady himself.  _ You can do this. You can get through this. Just let him say his piece, smile and nod, and then you can go hide out for a while in research. _ “Yeah, no problem. You mind if I grab a shower, first?” That was casual, right? Normal.

Clint nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, yeah, no problem. Just… just come to my floor when you’re done, all right?”

“Sure.”

“Great! That’s, ah, that’s great.”

Sam smothered a wince and, after another awkward moment, he reached out to the door and let himself inside. Thankfully, Clint didn’t follow him. It allowed Sam to avoid an even more awkward elevator ride. It also allowed him to close his eyes once he was inside and let out a heavy sigh that only JARVIS was around to hear. “Hey, JARVIS, if Tony asks for me, can you tell him Clint and I are getting coffee together or something? I don’t… I really don’t want him to walk in on this conversation. I get the feeling it’s going to suck enough as it is.”

“Of course, Sam,” JARVIS agreed easily. He paused and then, in a slightly hesitant voice, “Perhaps this conversation won’t be as bad as you fear it will be.”

A snort slipped free before Sam could stop it. “Since when am I ever that lucky?”

* * *

It only took about fifteen minutes for Sam to shower and get dressed again. Then he was back in the elevator, heading to Clint’s floor and trying to prepare himself for the really shitty conversation that waited ahead.  _ You can do this. All you need to do is go in there and let him talk, let him try and let you down gently, and then you can escape. Maybe you can chalk it up to the beers you had. You guys will laugh it off, have a few awkward days, and it’ll all go back to normal. _

When the elevator doors opened, Sam let resolve stiffen his spine, and he made his way out. He was going to do this. Even if it hurt, well, he’d survived worse, hadn’t he? He could survive this.

Clint was waiting for him in the living room area. He was seated in an overstuffed dark purple chair that just screamed it was a gift from Tony. As soon as Sam came into view, Clint’s eyes were on him, and those shutters were still in place. His smile looked a bit forced, which was as much a blow as the rest of it. “Sam. Hey, come on in. Have a seat.”

Oh yeah, they were off to a  _ great _ start. Sam came over and sat himself down on the love seat near Clint’s chair. Close, but not too close, and he made sure to keep his body back. He didn’t want to make the guy uncomfortable or look like he was trying to be pushy.

Yet, for some reason, Clint looked just a bit pained as he took in the way that Sam sat. Abruptly, he let out a heavy sigh, and Sam watched with surprise as the masks fell away. Clint’s exhaustion showed in the slump of his shoulders and the heavy lines on his face. “Fuck,” Clint breathed out, slumping back in his chair. “I…  _ fuck _ . I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”

Surprise had Sam’s eyebrows shooting up. “I… what?”

Clint wiped a hand over his face like he was trying to push back whatever he was feeling. Then he dropped his hand down to his lap and fixed Sam with a serious look before he fell back on the bluntness that Sam had enjoyed more than once during their budding friendship. “I really like you, Sam. I know it doesn’t seem like it after last night, but I do. I just… I freaked out, okay? Because no matter how much I like you, it’s not that simple for me.”

This wasn’t at all what Sam had been expecting. The fear that had sat inside of him, the hurt that he hadn’t wanted to admit to, those were momentarily ignored in the face of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“People don’t stick with me long term. They just, they don’t.”

“I…”

Clint held a hand up to cut Sam off. “Let me just say this, all right. I screwed up yesterday just bolting on you like that, and knowing you, you’ve probably spent the whole damn night telling yourself how it was all your fault or something stupid like that. And it’s not, okay. It’s not. It’s just… like I said, I like you, an I can see myself getting attached. And I can’t do that if you’re just gonna bail in the end like everyone else does.”

Whatever this was, it was nothing at all like Sam had expected, and clearly so much more. It was something that was big and important to Clint. Sam put aside his fears and let himself turn his full focus to the man in front of him. He’d listen to whatever it was that Clint had to say.

Clint lifted his chin and took on the pose of someone who was bracing for a hit. “Whatever you’re looking for with me, even if it’s just a good fuck buddy or whatever, you need to know that I’m…I’m a package deal. Tasha and I – we don’t sleep together, not like everyone thinks, but sometimes we do  _ sleep _ together. We’re never gonna have a physical relationship, her and I. She’s asexual. But she’s been my partner for a long time, and that means something to us. We love one another in our own way.”

This… this was Clint’s big worry? “Let me get this straight.” Sam licked his lips and tried to order Clint’s words and his thoughts into something that made sense. “You… have no problem with the idea of us sleeping together. You just need me to respect that you have a… a platonic life partner?”

“Sleeping together, dating, whatever you want,” Clint corrected him. “If you want more, I’m all for more, Sam. Like, yeah, fully on board with that. I’d be happy as fuck to go on dates and all that other sappy shit. I just, yeah, I couldn’t do it without telling you about Tasha. Because that’s not gonna change. Ever.”

Sam took his words in slowly and let them process through him. He wasn’t judging – he would never judge. He’d always believed that each person was entitled to live their life the way that made them happy. But this was more than that right now. This wasn’t just him accepting someone else’s life. This was him trying to decide if that was something he could accept as a part of his own life – potentially his own relationship here if he understood what Clint was offering him. Because of that, Sam gave it careful consideration, and he kept his voice nonjudgmental as he asked: “What would that mean for us?”

There was a wary look in Clint’s eyes as he watched Sam. He obviously wasn’t sure about Sam’s reaction. Likely it wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He didn’t snap, though, and he didn’t pull back defensively. He met Sam stare for stare and answered him in short, blunt words. “It means that sometimes she’s gonna need me and I’m gonna be there. Sometimes I need her. And sometimes we’re gonna share the same bed. Not for sex, because that’s not for us, though we’ve played the part on missions before. But just for sleep.”

Okay. That wasn’t so bad. Sam nodded slowly. “Would I need to sleep somewhere else those nights?”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up in open surprise. The wariness was slowly being replaced by confusion. “Not typically, no. Not unless it’s a bad one. She’d let us know.”

“You’d have the same right.” Another voice chimed in. Somehow, it wasn’t all that surprising for Sam to see Natasha leaning against the nearby wall. Where she’d been this whole time or how she’d crept up on them, he didn’t even bother asking. He was sort of used to that. He just looked over at her and watched her smile slightly at him as she spoke. “If there’s a night where you want to be alone with him or a night where you specifically want the both of us, you’d have the right to ask as well.”

That eased a little of Sam’s worry. Though he wasn’t quite sure about the ‘want the both of us’ part of things. What they were offering here, though… it didn’t sound bad. It sounded, well, kind of awesome. To have someone like that in your life, someone who didn’t depend on you for sex, who didn’t expect it, who was just there for you when you both needed it and who left you alone when you needed that – it sounded like a hell of a thing. One that Sam was pretty sure he could live with. He’d be gaining more than just a potential partner here, he’d be gaining a good friend as well, and what was wrong with that?

He tilted his head a bit, studying Natasha, and the faint smile that she wore said she saw a lot of what he was thinking. She gave a small nod, one that he returned.

“Okay,” Sam said softly. He turned his smile from Natasha to Clint and found the other man was watching him, stunned, almost like he hadn’t expected Sam to agree. They’d likely had poor luck with that in the past, and that made Sam feel sorry for the both of them. “Okay,” he repeated, smiling. Then his smile faded, just a bit. If they were going to be this honest with him, he could afford them the courtesy of doing the same. “I guess it’s my turn. There are some things you’ll need to understand about me.” His eyes slanted Natasha’s direction briefly. “Both of you.”

She took that as permission and came forward so that she could perch herself on the arm of Clint’s chair. The way she was looking at him, so damn understanding, it gave Sam the strength to keep speaking. To say the things he had to.

“There are going to be some days where you’re probably not going to be able to touch me.” Sam started out blunt, knowing that he needed to, that these things needed to be said and there was no better way to say it than just outright. “If I wake up speaking a language you don’t recognize, it’s probably Enochian, and it means that you shouldn’t touch me because there’s no telling what I’ll do to you. You can’t touch me again until I give permission, in English.”

Clint nodded his head, not looking at all perturbed by that. “Easy enough. We could probably cover that by just making a blanket rule of no touching any of us after nightmares until they give permission in English.”

Yeah, with what he knew of these two, it wasn’t surprising they had some of the same problems. Sam could understand that. It made it a bit easier, really, knowing that they’d understand at least a bit.

“You also need to understand…” This was the hardest part of all. The part that Sam hated. Because it was a part he knew would send pretty much anyone running. The same way that Clint had worried his bit would send Sam running, Sam worried that this was going to send Clint and Natasha both running. It wasn’t just one of them he had to make understand – it was both. And he had a feeling that, if Natasha didn’t want this, Clint would back out too.

Closing his eyes, Sam drew in a deep breath and kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see their faces right now. “Pretty much everyone who’s ever cared about me in any way has ended up dead. I wish… I wish I could say I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. All of them have died, and often in rather grisly ways, by rather monstrous things. The only person that hasn’t is Tony, and that’s because we’ve worked hard to keep our lives mostly separate up until now. Or, I have. But if you, if you seriously want to try something with me,” though God only knew why they would, “that’s something you need to be aware of.”

For a long moment Sam just sat there in silence and waited for what he was sure was inevitable. No one was going to stay after something like that. Why would they? He wouldn’t blame Clint at all for getting up and walking away. The fact that they were friends had been pushing it for Sam. To do something more, try something more, it had been a stupid idea to even think about. He should’ve sent Clint away when the archer started talking. Hell, he never should’ve kissed him.

The low sound of his name had Sam’s eyes shooting open in just enough time to see Clint sliding down to his knees in front of him. The archer was giving him such a serious look and, now that Sam was looking at him, his hands were steady as they reached out and curled around Sam’s. It was the look in his eyes that really held Sam’s attention, though. That look was far more serious than anything that Sam had seen from him so far, and it held him captive, unable to look away, unable to do anything but stare back.

“Look, Sam. I don’t get this serious often, so I need you to listen to me while it lasts, all right?”

“It’s true,” Natasha chimed in.

Clint rolled his eyes but didn’t even look back at her. He kept staring right at Sam. “I already told you, I like you.” As he said it, Clint smiled at him, just a small twitch of his lips. “I really like you. A lot more than I expected to like anyone that Stark calls ‘brother.’ I like you enough to come in here and talk about my relationship with Tasha, and I don’t do that with just anyone. Whatever curse it is you think you have, I’m not going to let that scare me away, all right? I don’t know what’s gonna happen with us, but something like that? It’s not going to chase me away.”

The words choked Sam up. They were so easy for Clint to say. If he had any idea… if he  _ knew _ .

Sam tightened his grip on the archer’s hands, feeling the callouses from years with the bow, and he knew he had to tell him. Even if it broke him, even if it sent Clint running, he had to make him understand. “My mother was killed by a demon when I was six months old because he wanted to bleed into my mouth to make me more capable of being Lucifer’s vessel.” It hurt – God, did it fucking hurt. Yet once Sam started, he couldn’t stop. “The same demon killed my girlfriend Jess in the same exact way just to motivate me to go back on the road so I’d be easier to manipulate. The next girl I slept with turned out to be a werewolf, and she asked me to shoot her before she hurt anyone else.”

Pain flashed over Clint’s features. “Sam, you don’t…”

“I slept with a demon who fed me demon blood and manipulated me into starting the apocalypse,” Sam said, his voice flat as he went on overtop Clint’s protests. “And that’s just the people I’ve dated. Dean’s been killed more times than I can count. Sometimes to stop me, sometimes as a lesson, or to get him out of the way. Bobby…” The words froze up there. Bobby had been killed helping them stop the Leviathan, but in its own way, Sam knew that was his fault, too. His fault for dragging Michael down with him and Lucifer, for leaving Heaven without a leader, for not supporting Cas when he needed it. There was a whole list of things that led to that and Sam knew a lot of it could be traced back to the Apocalypse. To him.

Before he could open his mouth to continue on, he was cut off by Clint’s “Sam, that’s enough.” The archer let go of Sam’s hands to reach up and cup his face, holding him firmly in place as he rose up a little. “It’s enough.” Without saying anything else, he closed the last bit of distance between them, rising up even as he pulled Sam down, and he pressed their lips together in a kiss.

In that single kiss were words that neither one of them were capable of saying. Sam poured his everything into it, and he felt Clint surge up to meet it all, taking everything that Sam gave him and then giving him everything of his own right back.

When they finally pulled apart, they didn’t go far. Clint used his hold on Sam to keep him there with their foreheads pressed together. Blue eyes met hazel, and a soft smile curved Clint’s lips. “They should suspend your license, cause baby, you’re driving me crazy.”

Startled laughter bubbled up Sam’s throat.

Hearing it only made Clint grin even more. He gave Sam’s neck a soft squeeze. “You should feel my shirt. It’s made of  _ boyfriend material. _ ”

“Oh my God,” Sam said, and the tension was bleeding out of him just like that, a warm joy taking its place. He was giggling, a sound he would later deny ever making. “Do you have a tan, or do you always look this hot?”

There was a low groan from behind Clint, and then Natasha’s voice grumbling “Oh, Lord, there’s  _ two of you _ .” But neither man paid her any attention. They were too busy grinning at each other and basking in the relief they felt. Clint was beaming, and Sam knew his own smile was just as wide.

Leaning in a little, Clint brushed his lips against Sam’s one more time. “Sam Winchester-Stark, would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

Sam couldn’t help himself. Smothering a giggle, he fired back “I’ll cook you dinner if you cook me breakfast.”

He was rewarded with a half-husky laugh that he really could get used to hearing. “You’re on, big boy.”

They were both laughing when they kissed again, and Sam let himself go, let himself get lost in the warm feeling inside of him, and the sturdy body against his.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam stood in the elevator and stared at the door, still not quite able to believe what had just happened.

He had a date with Clint tonight. A _date with Clint_.

When was the last time Sam had been out on a date? With _anyone_? Let alone with someone that had the potential to be important. Really, really important. Clint was – he was a friend, someone that Sam liked, and someone who was connected to his brother. Screwing this up had the potential to have a lot of damaging repercussions. One of which had Sam wincing. “Hey, JARVIS, is Tony still in the labs?”

“He and Dr. Banner have moved to Sir’s workshop. Would you like me to take you there?” JARVIS offered.

“Please.”

A minute later the elevator was moving. Sam tried to prepare himself for the conversation ahead. He didn’t _think_ Tony was going to be upset or anything like that. But, he couldn’t actually be sure. It wasn’t like Sam had ever really dated anyone except for Jess during the time he’d known Tony. While they’d been close then, they hadn’t been anywhere near as close as they were now, and Jess hadn’t been someone that Tony knew and worked with every single day.

What if Tony didn’t like it? What if it pissed him off to have Sam hitting on one of his teammates? Sam chewed on his bottom lip and stuffed his hands down into his pockets so he wouldn’t end up wringing them. “Do you think Tony’s gonna be mad about this?”

There was no hesitation to JARVIS’s answer, which eased a little of the tension inside of Sam. “I think you’ll find Sir quite thrilled.” There was a brief pause, and then a hint of humor entered JARVIS’s voice. “I also believe that this means Sir will have won the betting pool, so I imagine he’ll be even more pleased with you.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “There was a betting pool?” Pausing, he snorted and shook his head. “What am I saying. Of course there was.” That made it pretty clear exactly what Tony thought of this. Sam felt his tension bleed away. There were likely going to be parts of it that Tony worried about, but then again that would probably hold true for just about anyone Sam ever dated. But if Tony was making bets on when they’d get together, that made it pretty clear he was all right with the idea.

There was another person’s opinion that Sam wanted, though.

Looking up at the nearest camera, Sam smiled a little. “What do you think about all this, J?”

“I believe that Agent Barton is a good man, one who will care for you deeply, should you let him. I also believe the two of you are going to cause far more mischief than Sir realizes.”

Laughter bubbled up Sam’s throat. He didn’t bother trying to hold it back. “He’s dating a trickster god. If he’s not prepared for some mischief, I think he needs to rethink his life choices.”

Sam was still smiling when the elevator came to a stop. That smile only faded a little as he walked through the typical security measures and the doors slid open to let him in. Once he was inside, he looked around and easily found where Tony and Bruce were. The two were seated on stools on either side of a table, something glowing between them. It looked like a hologram of schematics for something or other. What, Sam wasn’t sure. Nor did he really need to know.

He made sure that his feet made just enough sound to be heard as he came up behind Tony. It brought Bruce’s eyes upwards, and the older man smiled at him. But Tony just kept working, fingers moving over the hologram without missing a beat.

Sam stopped at Tony’s side and leaned in against his back, one arm sliding around Tony’s waist so that he could rest his chin on Tony’s shoulder. With the high stool and the way Tony was bent over, it actually made it possible without Sam having to bend down too far.

While one hand continued to work, Tony brought up his other one to pat Sam’s cheek. “Hey, pipsqueak. How was coffee with Clint?”

It took a second for Sam to remember that he’d asked JARVIS to say they were just having coffee together if Tony tried to look for him. God, it felt like that had been forever ago! So much had happened since then! “It was good.” Closing his eyes, Sam let his weight rest a little more on Tony’s back, smiling just a little when he felt Tony grunt and shift to better take his weight without even saying a word.

Tony made a low, humming noise. “Yeah?” The question was almost absent; definitely distracted.

There was no way Sam could resist. Keeping his eyes closed, he let his smile grow a little. “Yeah. I mean, I got a date out of it, so I figure it went pretty good.”

“Mm, that’s awesome,” Tony murmured. Then Sam felt it – felt as Tony went still, Sam’s words actually sinking in this time. “Wait, what?” He was twisting a little now, his cheek brushing against Sam’s. “Run that by me again, puppy.”

“Are you losing your hearing, old man?”

Sam jerked back at the sudden flick to his forehead. His eyes snapped open, and he tilted his head enough to glare at Tony, who was smirking at him. “Don’t sass your betters, pipsqueak, and quit avoiding the question. Did you or did you not just say that you have a date with one Clint Barton?”

The smile that curved Sam’s lips and flashed his dimples was enough of an answer. Tony was already beaming back at him.

“Hot damn!” Twisting a little more, Tony reached up and caught hold of Sam’s head, tugging him in just enough that Tony could place a loud, smacking kiss on Sam’s forehead. “About damn time! You two have been dancing around each other since you showed up. Where’re you guys going? What’re you doing? Is he taking you someplace nice? He better take you someplace nice! An I mean actually nice, not just Barton nice.”

That ramble could’ve gone on for quite a while, Sam knew, if he let it. That was why he laughed and gave Tony a squeeze even. “Breathe, Tone. _Breathe_. I don’t know where he’s taking me. I mean, I offered to cook for him.” Sam paused long enough to chuckle, thinking of Clint’s response to that. Then he shook his head a little. “But he said he wanted to go out. I don’t really care where, and I don’t need somewhere fancy. That doesn’t suit either one of us. I mean, the first time I met the guy was in a crappy dive bar. I figure anywhere we go is a step up from there.”

“Yeah, you met him at a bar, fell for his cheesy pickup lines, and went straight to a motel, you shameless hussy,” Tony teased him. He poked a finger at Sam’s arm. “That doesn’t count as a date! This is a real, actual date, with two people going out somewhere nice together and eating food, talking, flirting.” He paused all of a sudden and then gave a deliberate shudder that had Sam and Bruce both chuckling. “Oh, God. You two are going to _flirt._ You’re gonna do it everywhere, aren’t you? _Fuck_.”

A smug grin stretched over Sam’s lips. “Consider it payback for having to watch you maul Loki each time he comes in the room.”

“ _Nooooo_.” One of Tony’s hands came up to clutch theatrically at the hand Sam had on his stomach. The engineer turned pleading eyes to his best friend. “Bruc _ie_ , you gotta help me!”

Bruce quickly held his hands up and sat back in his seat, still chuckling. “No way, man. You’re on your own here.”

Tony made a wounded sound that only had Sam and Bruce laughing more. “You don’t understand! You think _Clint_ is cheesy? Sam’s _worse_ sometimes! I don’t know where I went wrong with the kid. He’s _terrible_. The jokes, the puns… I can hear it already. You guys are probably going to be like those disgusting people with the cutesy nicknames and crap, aren’t you?”

The accusing glare that Tony shot his way was too much. Sam dissolved into helpless laughter, slumping even more heavily against Tony’s back. He missed the smug grin the engineer wore or the way he winked over at Bruce.

“I learned it from Dean,” Sam said between chuckles. “Dude was smooth as hell half the time, and the rest of the time he made the most _terrible_ puns.”

“That is _not_ a part of his legacy you should be carrying on, Sam!”

Though Tony had clearly meant that in a teasing way, it was enough of a reminder that it dimmed some of Sam’s joy. He closed his eyes for just a second and indulged in the wish that Dean was here, too. If he were here with Tony, there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that the two men would have a blast ribbing Sam for the entirety of the day. Just like he knew they’d be right there to support him once it got close. Dean would probably want to check Clint out, make sure he was ‘good enough’ for Sam, and then he’d likely turn around and throw a few condoms Sam’s way with a wink and a quip about safe sex.

As Sam was lost in his memories, Tony and Bruce exchanged a look. Bruce nodded his understanding before he pushed up from his chair. “I think I’m gonna go grab some tea. You guys want anything?”

“Nah, were good,” Tony said easily.

Sam blinked his eyes a few times. He’d barely heard Bruce’s question, but he did hear him leaving. When Sam went to straighten up, not quite sure what was going on, Tony used his hand on Sam’s arm to keep him in place. It had the younger Winchester freezing. “Tony?”

It wasn’t until the doors closed that Tony answered Sam’s unspoken question. When he did, his voice was a whole lot gentler than before. There was a caring edge to it that so few ever got to hear. “What’s going on, pipsqueak?”

For a second Sam floundered, not quite sure what Tony meant, before he realized. _Oh_. Tony must’ve picked up on his shift in mood. Not like Sam had been all that subtle. He’d gone from teasing and laughing to quiet and broody. No wonder Tony was asking him what was going on.

Because it was Tony and not anyone else, Sam didn’t just brush it off. He chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment and let his fingers fiddle with the material of Tony’s shirt. Tony waited patiently for Sam to find his words.

“I was just… wishing Dean was here, that’s all,” Sam finally said. He stared blankly down at the schematics that were still glowing in front of them, not actually seeing what was there. “Is it… is it weird, that I’m…” Words failed him. Sighing, Sam tugged a little on Tony’s shirt, trying to find a way to phrase what it was he was thinking and feeling.

Luckily for Sam, he didn’t have to. Tony had always been able to read Sam like he was an open book. Now wasn’t any different.

“It’s okay for you to be happy, Sam,” Tony said softly. He pressed his cheek against the top of Sam’s head. “Whatever’s happened to Dean… his being gone doesn’t mean that your whole life has to stop. You’ve got a right to be happy, just like the rest of us.”

“What if he really is gone?”

The words were so soft it was a wonder Tony heard them. Yet, the way his hand tightened on Sam made it clear that he had. “Then we’ll deal with it. An I’ll be right here every step of the way, pipsqueak. You got my word on that.”

* * *

If there was one thing that Tony was really, really good at, it was distractions. For himself or for others. He had no problems keeping Sam distracted through most of the day. Whatever project he and Bruce had been working on was abandoned before Bruce came back to them. Instead, Bruce walked in to find the two Starks on their knees on the ground working on what looked to be a random pile of metal scraps.

“Scraps?” Tony gasped when Bruce voiced just that, looking playfully offended. “I will have you know that this is no mere pile of _scraps_ , Robert Bruce Banner. How dare you insult my baby like this?” Then Tony turned and pet a hand down a long piece of metal and actually _cooed_ at it. “Don’t you listen to him, baby. Daddy and Uncle Sammy love you. We won’t let that mean ol’ doctor call you names, no we won’t.”

Sam exchanged a look with Bruce, who was rolling his eyes good-naturedly. It had Sam stifling a chuckle. “We were talking about the bots and how they work, and Tony decided practical application was the only way I’d learn about this.”

“So you’re… building a bot?” Bruce asked slowly.

The grin that Tony gave him was bright and just a bit manic. A dangerous combination. “Yep! Get over here and give us a hand, Brucie Goosie.”

Sam snorted and nudged Tony with his shoulder. “And you were complaining about my potential for gross nicknames.”

“Excuse you? My nicknames are awesome!”

What came after that was a mix of chaos that Sam had only ever found with Tony. It was the kind of controlled chaos that left people breathless with laughter and yet still managed to produce something. He had this way of drawing everyone into it, too, which meant that Bruce ended up on the ground with them soon enough.

Tony made Sam do most of the hard work. He claimed it was the only way Sam was going to learn anything. Luckily, years with hanging out with Tony in the workshop meant that Sam was familiar with most of the tools. He got to put his body and muscles to work as they slowly but surely started to put together the general framework for the newest of Tony’s bots.

By the time JARVIS called a halt to their day, they had at least a steady foundation and a general idea of where they were going with it.

“Sirs, I apologize for interrupting, but Agent Barton has asked that Sam meet him downstairs in one hour. I suggest putting a stop to your current project to allow for time to prepare for the evening,” JARVIS said smoothly, drawing the three men up from their work. “Also, Sir, you have a date yourself this evening, as you asked me to remind you.”

Confusion marred Tony’s brow for a moment before his expression cleared. “Right! Thanks, J. We’ll just pack this up and then it looks like you and I both need a shower, puppy. The last thing we want is to go out looking like this. Stark men have more class than that.”

It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to tell him that Winchester men didn’t. He held it back, though, not wanting to lose the good mood they’d found with one another.

Ten minutes later, Sam was in his room, and Tony had presumably gone up to his. That was what Sam figured, at least, when he went to go take his shower. That was why Sam was surprised to find Tony resting on his bed when he came out of the bathroom a half hour later. His big brother was reclined back on one elbow, his legs dangling off the bed, and he’d somehow managed to get dressed in a rather sharp looking slacks, shirt, and vest combo. His hair was even styled and everything.

Sam, meanwhile, was standing there with just a towel around his waist and his hair still dripping a little around his head. He stood for a moment and just gaped at Tony. “How on earth did you get ready so fast?”

“Skill,” Tony said simply, flashing a grin.

A snort slipped from Sam. He shook his head and strode over to the closet. “Yeah, sure. It probably doesn’t hurt there’s a lot less to clean.”

“Hey!”

Tossing a grin of his own over his shoulder, Sam shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

“You are _sassy_ tonight. Good, you’ll need it if you’re going to spend the evening with Barton. That asshole has one hell of a mouth on him.”

Oh man, that was _too easy_. There was no way Sam could resist rising to the bait there. This time his grin as a lot wider when he turned back towards Tony, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there for quite a while. “ _Yeah,_ he does.”

The way that Tony’s whole face twisted was absolutely priceless. “Oh, _gross!_ ”

Sam laughed out loud while he stepped inside the clothes to look over his clothes. “J, tell me you got a still of that face.”

“Of course, Young Sir,” JARVIS said. He sounded a bit smug, too.

“You are a horrible, horrible human being, Samuel Winchester-Stark!” Tony called in to him. “That was _gross_. I didn’t need to know that!”

“I didn’t need to know how much you like you like the way that Loki tastes in both his forms, but that’s never stopped you from sharing it,” Sam fired back.

“It was for science, Sam! Science! Who out there gets to know what an alien god tastes like, let alone what _two_ taste like!”

Sam shook his head. He reached out to start poking through some of the clothes in here. Over half of them were purchased by Tony, and Sam had never worn them before. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to go with tonight, though. The fact that he had no idea where it was he was going didn’t exactly help. “Is there an actual reason you rushed through getting ready to get down here or were you just looking to trade gross stories until it’s time to go? Cause if that’s the case, I could tell you all about the way that it felt when Cl…”

“No!” Tony cut in sharply. His shudder was easily heard in his voice. “No, no, no. I am not mentally ready to hear anything about what Barton does. Maybe later, after a bottle of scotch. Or two. Maybe even three.” There was another pause, and Sam was sure that Tony was fake shuddering again, even though he knew that Sam couldn’t see him. Then suddenly his voice was a whole lot closer, and getting more so. “I came down here because I’ve seen your excuse for ‘nice clothes’ before.”

Sam turned just in time to watch as Tony walked into the closet with him. The younger man arched one eyebrow at him. “I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself, Tone.”

“ _Right._ Have you even looked at the rest of these clothes? There’s more to the world than plaid and layers, puppy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with how I dress!”

Tony, true to form, just waved him off and then pushed him out of the way so that he could go and dig through the drawer in front of him that carried Sam’s underwear. “I’m thinking some of those slacks over there, show off your ass a bit. It’s a nice ass. Then maybe a nice button up shirt. No need to get the vest – we don’t need to go crazy. Too much fancy might short circuit Barton’s brain, and he’s only got so many brain cells left.”

“I don’t need…!”

He was cut off when Tony thrust a pair of underwear at him and just kept talking. “Maybe that dark blue one. It’s a good color for you, makes your eyes look a little blue.”

“Tony!” Sam curled his hand around the _silk boxers_ that Tony had handed to him. Why on earth would he wear silk boxers?! “I can dress myself, and I can pick out my own underwear!”

Sam reached out to grab a different pair, only to get his hand smacked away by Tony, who shot him a glare. “Nuh-uh! If there’s one thing I know, it’s dates, and you’re not going on a date in some lame _plaid boxers_. Seriously, Sam, we’ve got to talk about this fetish you have with plaid. There are other materials out there. Other patterns, even!”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boxers!” Sam snapped at him. They were the same boxers he’d always bought; the cheapest package that carried the most inside it. They were one of the few things the brothers went to Wal-Mart for and not the Goodwill or Salvation Army. They’d work just fine for tonight, too! Only, when Sam reached for them again, Tony smacked his hand away once more. “Tony, would you quit it and let me get my boxers?”

A devilish light appeared in Tony’s eyes that only spelled trouble. “No way! I can’t, in good conscience, let you go out looking like that, Sam. I just can’t.” And with that, Tony proceeded to _grab all of Sam’s underwear_ and rush out of the closet.

There was a brief moment of stunned shock when Sam could only stare after him. Then his brain kicked into gear, and he darted out after his brother. There was no telling what Tony was going to do with them.

It was a good thing Sam had hurried out, too. He found Tony standing by the window stretching to try and reach the handle to open it. The fact that JARVIS hadn’t just opened his window for him was something Sam was eternally grateful for. It’d probably saved Sam from already having his underwear flying through the air outside the tower. “Tony!”

Even as Sam leapt at him, Tony was darting away from the window, and Sam just briefly got a glimpse of the bright grin stretched over his face before Tony was clambering up onto the bed to try and get away from him. “No! I won’t let you do it!” Tony said, cackling as he went. “I’m saving you, Sam!”

Sam leapt after him and just barely caught Tony’s arm for one brief moment. Somehow, Tony jerked away and almost fell off the bed in the process of getting away from Sam. The hunter growled and glared at him. “Someone’s gonna need to save you in a minute here!”

A huge leap took Sam halfway over the bed and brought him just close enough to snag the back of Tony’s shirt. It let him pull Tony back towards him, even as Tony fought to go forward, almost overbalancing Sam in the process. He was having a hard time keeping himself upright with one hand still gripping the towel at his waist. It was threatening to slide off him with each move, and he had to spread his knees to compensate and get better balance.

Of course, that had to be the exact moment that a voice spoke up, letting the two men know that they very much were not alone.

“Am I interrupting something?” Loki asked them. The two humans froze, both turning to look at him, and they found the trickster leaning against the wall by the closet, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow up in judgment. He looked like he was dressed for his date with Tony as well in black slacks and shirt, a dark green striped tie Sam knew Tony had gotten him, a lighter green scarf, and a black peacoat that was well tailored to him.

Color flooded Sam’s cheeks. It was at least a little satisfying to see that Tony was blushing too. The two grown men broke apart from one another, Sam straightening up and adjusting his towel to make sure it was still on, and Tony clearly looked down at the underwear he held and then he looked back up at Loki and gave him a slightly sheepish grin. “Brotherly bonding?”

That earned them both an eye roll. There was a hint of a smile just tugging at the edges of Loki’s lips, though, and that feeling of energy that was always around him was a little lighter than normal. It was a feeling Sam had come to associate with a happy or amused Loki. Pushing off the wall, Loki turned and smoothly made his way into Sam’s closet.

While he was in there, Sam took advantage of the moment to stretch across the bed again and grab his underwear from an unsuspecting Tony. He shot his brother one last glare, which Tony answered with a sheepish grin, and then Sam was quickly yanking on a pair of plain black boxers. He had them on and his underwear stuff into the nearby chair, his towel draped over one arm, when Loki came back out.

The god walked over to Sam and handed him a pile of clothes. In it was a pair of dark blue jeans, a light grey shirt, and a dark grey scarf. “Try these.”

There was nothing about the outfit that screamed _fancy_. It was something Sam might’ve picked out on his own. The jeans were comfortable, yet not worn down looking at all. The shirt itself was long-sleeved, his preference, and soft and comfortable. Sam put both of them on, and then Loki surprised him by stepping up to put the scarf on for him. It was long, so he doubled it up and then laid it over Sam’s neck, reaching through the hole on one side to draw the two tails through. He left it loose enough not to choke him while still close enough to be warm. Then, Loki further surprised them by reaching up towards his hair, only to pause and cock an eyebrow at him. “May I?”

Sam wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but Loki hadn’t steered him wrong so far. He gave a shrug that was more a jerk of his shoulder. “Okay?”

That hint of a smile was back on Loki’s lips. He brushed his fingers through Sam’s hair, gathering it towards the back of his head and pulling it into a messy bun. When he was done, he brought some of the loose bits forward, tucking some behind Sam’s ears and leaving others hanging free. Then he stepped back and put his hands on his hips to look Sam over. “There. Pair it with that dark blue jacket you like, the light one hanging on the door, and you have a nice while still casual outfit that says you took time with your appearance, yet not too much.”

“Nice work,” Tony complimented, moving up to stand at Loki’s side. He reached out as well and smoothed out a few lines on Sam’s shirt. Then he lifted his eyes, and they were bright and warm, the earlier teasing no longer there. Tony leaned against his partner’s side and smiled up at Sam with something almost akin to pride on his face. “You look good, pipsqueak. Barton won’t know what hit him.”

Color warmed Sam’s cheeks, but it didn’t stop the pleased little smile from curving his lips. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I just…” Sam ducked his head down a bit, eyes darting down and to the side. “I haven’t actually dated anyone since, well… since Jess, actually.” And sometimes the memories he _did_ hold of that time were a bit hazy. He had a hard time remembering some pre-Cage memories. Especially the ones earlier in his life. Ones like Jess, they stood out a bit more, or some things with Dean and Dad. But the little things? Where they went on their first date? Some of his Stanford classes? A few random hunts? Those had vanished to make room for other, darker memories.

Tony smoothed out a bit more fabric over Sam’s shoulder, then fiddled a little with his scarf before patting his cheek. “You’ll be fine. I mean, really, it’s just Clint.”

“Tony,” Sam packed a wealth of warning into that tone. He didn’t need to hear all about how this was ‘just Barton’ or some other cracks about the guy right now.

Only, Tony quickly held his hand up and shook his head. “No, no! I didn’t mean it like that, Sam. I meant – it’s just _Clint_. This is the same guy you flirted with over bad pickup lines in a crap bar. It’s the same guy you’ve sat up on the roof with tons of time lately and probably talked about stupid shit while drinking beer. You’ve hung out with him plenty of times before without any of this pressure. This date? It’s just like that, only you’re out of the tower to do it, and you’ve got a chance to get laid at the end.

That – _huh_. That actually had Sam relaxing a little. Tony was right. Despite them not being formal dates, Sam and Clint had hung out together like this quite a few times already. The only differences with this time were that they were actually labeling it a date, and they were going out of the tower to do it. Otherwise, they’d really already shared plenty of meals together here. How hard would it be to go out and eat with him somewhere?

A smile softened Sam’s face. “Thanks, guys.”

“Young Sir, if you’re ready, Agent Barton has just arrived downstairs,” JARVIS said, interrupting the moment between them.

Sam turned his smile up towards the ceiling. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

That seemed to kick Tony into overdrive. He was once more checking Sam’s clothes, making sure he was wrinkle-free, and the babbling had started back up again. “Be safe,” he warned Sam. “I know you’re used to hiding, but let’s not let the public find out a Winchester is still alive, all right? Just, do your best to avoid any press. Maybe take that necklace you used on the mission. That way if anyone does show up, you can slip it on, and no one will recognize you.”

“He will be fine,” Loki said, tugging Tony’s hands away gently yet firmly. He shot Sam a wink over Tony’s head and then proceeded to draw his lover back so that Sam would be free to grab his jacket and go.

Sam shot them both one last smile as he darted over to grab his blue jacket. “You guys enjoy your evening, too. And thanks again!” he called out. Then he was out the door before Tony could try and say anything else. There was a fifty-fifty chance it was going to either be more worries, or something dirty, neither of which Sam needed at the moment.

Excitement curled low in Sam’s stomach as he rode the elevator down. He could do this. _He could do this_. It was going to be fine. It was going to be _great_.

When the elevator doors opened, it let Sam out into the edge of the lobby. He hadn’t taken the more private elevator, though now that he was thinking about it, he probably should have.

However, it was a good thing he’d chosen this one, because just a few feet away stood Clint, looking a little awkward and a whole lot excited – and absolutely, unfairly gorgeous.

No matter what he wore, there was always this perpetually _messy_ aura to Clint. Especially when paired up against people like Natasha or Tony. It was a look that Sam had always thought worked for him, though. Now wasn’t any different. Clint was in blue jeans, pretty typical, and a light blue V-neck shirt, over which he’d thrown on a black woolen jacket that looked warm and comfortable. The outfit, Sam was guessing, was probably picked by Natasha, though he’d bet the black combat boots were Clint’s idea. But despite all that, he looked just a bit rumpled, his hair a bit mussed, and there was a fresh mark on the left side of his jaw that Sam didn’t remember seeing there earlier.

All in all, he looked a bit messy, definitely nervous, and really damn good.

The way that Clint’s eyes lit up when he saw Sam was a nice boost to the ego. By the time Sam reached him, the archer was grinning. “Look at you. I’m glad I decided to let Tasha help me get ready.”

Sam’s dimples flashed as he grinned. “She did a good job.”

Little wrinkles crinkled up the corners of Clint’s eyes. His smile was bright and only added to that warmth in Sam’s stomach. Then, with his trademark bluntness, Clint didn’t waste any time in blurting out “So! I know you’re not a big fan of surprises, and you don’t really seem to like all that fancy stuff your brother does, so I talked to JARVIS and got a few recommendations, and I figured…” Huffing out a breath and looking just a bit amused with himself, Clint lifted a hand and jerked his thumb over his left shoulder. “There’s this really awesome hole-in-the-wall Thai place that I’ve been wanting to try out, just a few blocks that way. I’ve heard they make some awesome food. I figured we could go, get a bite to eat, just kind of see what we feel like doing afterward?”

“Sounds great,” Sam said honestly, smiling.

An answering smile lit Clint’s face. “Yeah?”

Holding in a chuckle, Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“ _Awesome_.” To Sam’s shock, Clint reached out and caught Sam’s hand in his, tugging him forward. “I’ve been waiting to try this place for _ever_ , but no one ever wanted to go with me. I don’t know why! They all like Thai food. But, Stark always orders it from this one place a few blocks away, and I mean, their stuff is pretty awesome, but variety is the spice of life and all that, right?”

The familiar feel of Clint’s rambling washed over Sam, chasing away the last of his worries. Tony was right. This was just like any other time that Sam and Clint had hung out.

Smiling, Sam firmed his hold on Clint’s hand and fell into step easily beside him, feeling lighter already.


	14. Chapter 14

The Thai restaurant definitely proved worth it. Sam made a mental note of the place so that he could go back there again. The pumpkin curry that Sam ordered was _delicious_ ; the right amount of spice without crossing over into too much, and the serving size was enough for someone of Sam’s size – a rarity when going out to eat. Usually, servings were a bit smaller.

Clint got the drunken noodles, and the two also had an appetizer tray between them with egg rolls, crab puffs, and pot stickers.

The food was amazing, but Sam could honestly say it was second to the company. It was the first time in a long time Sam could remember enjoying a meal so much. Clint kept the conversation going easily, and just like he did any time the two talked at the tower, he made Sam _laugh_. There was no sense of awkwardness; no weird pauses or uncomfortable looks. There wasn’t that whole ‘getting to know them’ thing that usually was there on a first date. Sam and Clint already knew the basics about one another. This was more like what Sam imagined a third or fourth date was like.

What made it even better was that there was no one here to disturb them. It was just the two of them in their booth, with a waiter occasionally coming to bring them food or offer them drinks.

Sam had gotten so used to being around Tony lately that he hadn’t thought anything about ordering himself a cocktail. Tony was known to rant about people who thought drinks had to be gendered, which was usually followed by him ordering the ‘girliest’ drink possible. Sam knew his brother did it in part because he knew Sam was hesitant about ordering those drinks.

When the waiter brought over Sam’s drink, and the hunter realized what he’d ordered, he’d discreetly checked Clint’s face, and he’d braced himself for teasing. But nothing had happened. Clint hadn’t even batted an eye at it. And so Sam got to enjoy his tequila sunrise with his food.

They made it about halfway through when the good luck started to run out. Sam almost didn’t notice it; not at first. He was too caught up in enjoying himself. It wasn’t until Clint started to rub at his arms and grumbled “Man, they need to turn the heat up or something. It’s _freezing_ in here,” that it finally started to click that something was wrong.

When it did, Sam froze. He hadn’t noticed it before – he was usually cold in some way or another, ever since Hell – but it _was_ getting cold in here. More than that… there was a hint of something that was itching in his brain. That weird sensation that he’d gotten pretty good at blocking out. The one that told him that there was something weird going on around him. Pair that up with the cold temperature in what should’ve been a warm place, and it didn’t spell anything good.

Oh, this was just _great_. Sam couldn’t help it – he bowed his head down and groaned. “ _Dammit_.”

“What?” Clint’s voice was sharper and a whole lot more alert. That wasn’t the tone of Clint; it was Agent Barton slipping to the forefront. “What’s going on?”

“This city is enormous, full of dozens of different restaurants, countless bars. So many places we could’ve gone to eat.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Sam scanned the room, mentally cursing the fact that this wasn’t a burger joint. None of the tables had salt on them. They were going to have to get back to the kitchen somehow. But first, he brought his eyes back to Clint, and he gave the other man a smile that was half mirth, half frustration. “And somehow we had to pick the one that’s _haunted_.”

He watched Clint’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. Whatever he’d been expecting Sam to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. “Woah, what?”

They didn’t have much time. If the temperature was dropping this much, the spirit was about to do something. They needed to get to the salt, and they needed to get this place cleared about before it became serious. “Yeah. Listen, I’ll explain it all afterward, I promise, but right now I need you to do me a favor and get every civilian out of here as quick as you can.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in Clint. He didn’t bother responding, or waste time asking questions, he simply hopped up from the table and immediately started calling out to the room. “Everybody, I need you to come with me, right now. Leave your food on the tables and head to the door, quickly.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sam heard someone ask. He wasn’t paying too much attention; he trusted Clint to do his part. Still, as Sam pushed up from the table and began to hurry back towards the kitchen, he did hear Clint’s “Hawkeye. Now, you wanna argue, buddy, or you wanna get your ass in gear? Let’s move!”

The man at the register was already coming out to try and stop them, demanding to know what was going on, but Sam cut him off before he could head out towards everyone. “This is extremely important Avengers business right now, and we need to get everyone evacuated for their own safety.  Do you have any other staff in the back?”

The poor guy looked utterly terrified. “Our chef, h-his assistant, an two waiters.”

Sam gave a sharp nod and pushed the guy towards Clint. “Go, get out of here. I’ll get them.”

He tore down the hall and into the kitchen just in time to walk straight into chaos.   Whereas the rest of the restaurant had been cold, the kitchen as an ice box, and it was clear that this was where the spirit was at. Whoever the hell it was, they were clearly pissed off, and they weren’t afraid to show it. The chef was just backing up with the waiters and his assistant practically cowering behind him as a ghost flickered to life in front of them. “ _Get out_!” the ghost was snarling at them.

Hunters’ reflexes had Sam moving quickly. It took him just a second to find some salt nearby – the best thing he was going to get to work with in here – and he made a leap for it, shouting out “Get down!” as he did. Thank God, all the humans dropped to the ground, and Sam was able to fling the salt at the ghost. Messy, but effective. It did the trick. The ghost vanished, and Sam slowly straightened back up, salt in hand. But that itching feeling in his brain was gone, and the room was gradually beginning to warm back up.

Just as Sam reached to set the salt down, the door burst open, and Clint came in, his agent face fully engaged.

It would seem Sam really had been spending too much time with Tony lately. The very first thing he thought as he looked at Clint’s serious expression was, _Add that to the list of things that probably shouldn’t turn me on._ Getting turned on by Clint looking so serious and dangerous probably wasn’t the best of things.

Clint’s eyes took the room in with one sweep and then focused back on Sam’s face. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah.” Sam looked back at the chef and the people behind him, the way they were staring at Sam and Clint like they couldn’t quite believe what was going on, and he tried not to sigh. _This is going to be fun_. “Yeah, we’re great.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later the two were once more seated at their table with their food mostly gone between them. Only this time, the restaurant was empty, and Sam’s phone was out as well. Apparently, it helped on a hunt when you were with someone who was known as an Avenger. All it’d taken was a few words from Clint, a hint that this might be Avengers business, and the people here had cleared out and left their key with Clint to lock the place up when they were done. Sam was more than a little impressed by that.

Clint, however, seemed to be a bit impressed with watching _Sam_. Which… well, Sam wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t like he was doing anything special?

He chose to ignore that thought and focused instead on the phone in front of him. “So, what can you tell me about this place, JARVIS?”

“ _I believe I might have a likely candidate, Young Sir_ ,” JARVIS said smoothly. It was just him on the line – there was no way Sam was calling to let Tony know what was going on, no thank you – and JARVIS hadn’t had a single issue in looking into things for Sam. He was a lot faster than Sam was at finding information. “ _Five years earlier, this restaurant used to be called ‘The Jasmine Cup’ and was a small tea parlor. It would appear that there was a robbery gone wrong, and the owner of the shop, a Mrs. Elizabeth Moroe, was murdered. Reports seem to indicate that this shop has been owned twice since then, before finally settling as the Tiger Eye._ ”

“You got a picture, J?”

A photo appeared on Sam’s phone. One look was all he needed. He gave a nod at the same time that he confirmed “Yeah, that was her. I only got a small glimpse, but it matches.” Sighing, Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “When I went into the kitchen she was screaming ‘get out’ at everyone.”

“So, she… what?” Clint asked, watching Sam carefully. “She’s pissed that people are building in her shop and she’s scaring them away?”

That was as good a theory as any. “It’s pretty likely. The point is, we need to get her out of here before she actually hurts someone. If I hadn’t gone in there tonight, one of those people would be dead. Can you tell me where she’s buried, J?”

“ _It says she was cremated, Young Sir._ ”

Of course she was. Because why on earth would this be easy? If she was cremated, it had to mean that she was tied to something else. Something here in the restaurant. Only… what? What would tie her here? “We need to find out if there’s anything in here that’s left over from the original,” Sam said, eyes already traveling around the room like something might just jump out at him. “Ghosts have to be tied to something to be here. It’s usually their remains, though it can be something as little as a bit of blood or hair. But sometimes they can get tied down to an object, too.”

“Blood…” Clint’s voice was thoughtful on that word. It had Sam’s eyes darting back to him. He found the archer looking around as well, only Clint’s face was curious, like he was slowly working his way through an idea. Then, he abruptly asked “JARVIS, how was she killed?”

“ _A GSW to the heart, Agent Barton._ ”

Clint nodded a little. “Typical robbery-gone-wrong, then. But if she were shot, that would mean there was blood, right? Especially to the chest. Lots and lots of blood. Is there a chance she maybe bled in here someplace and they, I don’t know… didn’t get it all out?”

That was – that was a really good idea. Blood was hard to get up. If there were enough stained into the ground, it’d definitely be enough to hold her. But how the hell would they salt and burn that without burning the whole place down? And that was if they even found it at all. “It sounds great, except for the fact that we can’t burn the whole place down trying to find this.”

“ _If I may, Young Sir_ ,” JARVIS interrupted. “ _Master Loki suggests you do a ritual cleansing. The right ingredients placed in the North, South, East, and West corners of the restaurant will work to cleanse the restaurant and banish any spirits that might be tied to there_.”

Memories of the last time Sam had done that reared up in the back of his mind. He hadn’t thought of that in a long time – hadn’t really even remembered it was there – but he remembered it now. He remembered going to his old family home and putting the hex bags into the walls to banish the poltergeist that had taken up residence there. And he remembered his mother’s spirit saving him. This, it wasn’t quite the same. It was a spirit that was anywhere near that strong, nor was it anything with a personal connection. But… it tugged at those memories all the same.

A hand closing over Sam’s startled him out of his thoughts. When he looked up, Clint flashed him a smile and winked. Then he was turning his head towards the phone. “Sounds like the best plan to me. What do we need to do, JARVIS?”

* * *

There had been so many times over the years that Sam had wondered what it’d be like to let JARVIS really help on a hunt. He’d given information before, things like that, but he’d never full on helped with a hunt. Not like this.

It seemed that JARVIS had already sent over an order of exactly the items they needed to make their hex bags before Sam had even agreed to it. That meant that everything showed up not long after their phone call ended, and Sam and Clint were free to put the bags together in the car that JARVIS had also sent over with the supplies and a driver – because putting these together _inside_ the building would’ve been like asking the spirit to stop them.

Sam and Clint talked through their plan as they got things ready. Though Sam had been a bit hesitant putting things together, fully expecting some crack about magic or whatever, Clint hadn’t seemed bothered by it. Nor did he seem bothered by taking orders from Sam on what needed to be done.

“The spirit’s going to get pissed when we start this,” Sam warned him, adding the last ingredient to the bag and tying it off. “I mean, really pissed. This won’t be easy. They’ll fight back. The last time I did it this way, the spirit got pretty nasty.” That was an understatement. Sam had been choked, attacked, and pinned to a wall.

Clint shrugged one shoulder like it was all no big deal. “We’ll deal with it.”

The casual way he said it had Sam pausing to look up at him. “You’ve been taking this really well. The whole, haunted thing, I mean. You’ve barely missed a beat.”

To his surprise, Clint started to laugh. “Listen, sweetheart. I fight aliens, robots, and monsters far more frequently than I’d ever really like to, and I’ve been a SHIELD operative for years. That kind of life doesn’t leave you alone. Hell, one of these days remind me to tell you a bit about the tracksuit mafia I had to deal with at my apartment.”

“Tracksuit…”

“Mafia,” Clint finished, grinning. He tied off his bag as well and brought that bright smile up to Sam’s face. “Yeah, long story. Like I said, I’ll tell you about it sometime. But my point is, I deal with a lot of weird crap all on my own. At least this weird crap is kind of fun, and I get to watch you in hunter-mode. Which, let me tell you…”

There was a twinkle in his eye that told Sam exactly where _that_ comment was going, and he hurried to say a quick “Okay!” while gathering up their hex bags. “Let’s get this done with before it gets too late, all right?”

Clint looked far too amused by Sam’s distraction. He let him get away with it, though and gathered up the two bags that were his to deal with.

Together, the two made their way back inside the empty restaurant. Sam dearly hoped things didn’t go too badly. The last thing they needed was the cops being called because of some sort of a disturbance. They needed to get in, get these in place, and get it all done with.

It wasn’t going to be that easy, though. Sam knew that from the instant they stepped inside. That itch was back that told him the ghost was back as well. “She’s here,” Sam murmured, body already bracing. “Let’s get this done, quick.”

The itchy feeling grew when the two men went apart from one another. It only got worse as Sam hurried over to the north section of the wall. He felt almost naked right now; he didn’t even have a shotgun on him. Using a shotgun in the restaurant of a crowded city street like this was like _begging_ for the cops to be called. That meant that Sam was only really armed with salt and his own wits – a terrible combination. They didn’t even have anything iron on them. _One of these days I’m going to get Tony to make me an iron bracelet or something. Something I can wrap my hand around and use in an emergency. I can’t go in unarmed like this just because I can’t bring real weapons._

As Sam raised the hammer that had come with their stuff, ready to knock out the section of wall, he felt the temperature in the room drop drastically, and he knew they were out of time.

She was here.

One part of Sam wanted to worry about Clint. The archer hadn’t ever hunted before. The most he’d done was the demon fight when they got back Kevin; he had no idea how to handle himself against a ghost. But the other part of Sam knew that he’d given Clint as much information as possible, and so far the guy had shown himself to be quite capable of at least rolling with the punches. Sam needed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Though it was hard when Sam heard a grunt and loud cursing followed by a heavy thud. Sam looked up from the hole he’d just created, eyes seeking out Clint. He had just enough time to see that Clint was ducking flying dishes, using a table as a shield, and then all of Sam’s focus was on the chairs that were flying towards him.

Thank God for fast reflexes! Sam ducked down and shot to the right in just enough time for the chairs to hit the wall and shatter. He scrambled to move before more could come, hurrying to shove the spell bag into the hole he’d made.

When Sam got his in and dodged a few more flying objects, he saw that Clint had gotten himself free somehow and already put his bag in its spot. That meant there were just two left to do.

The bags that Clint had were for the east and west, which was the sides of the building, mostly. A bit diagonal. But the north and south, the ones that Sam had, that had been more towards the front, and back in the kitchen. He’d deliberately taken that one because he knew what kind of risk it was going to be to have to get through the kitchen to place this bag. Especially with the ghost so pissed off at them. The kitchen had the most weapons in it.

As Clint shot off towards his next spot, he flashed a grin at Sam, looking like he was enjoying himself for some reason. It made Sam shake his head, though he couldn’t help his own fond smile. _Idiot_.

Then Sam was in the kitchen, and he couldn’t think any more about how much of an idiot Clint was, good or bad. There was barely any time to think about anything except staying alive. The ghost took advantage of every single weapon around her and started flinging them Sam’s way the instant he got into the room. He had to duck, quickly, to avoid the set of steak knives that were thrown his way.

All he needed to do was get across the room and to that wall, make a hole, and shove the bag in. _Oh, is that all_? Sam’s mind snarked at him, and what did it say that he heard it in both Dean _and_ Tony’s voices.

Sam had only made it about halfway across the room when the ghost finally decided to go for him instead of just the objects around him. He was trying to dart from one hiding spot to the next, using the stoves in the middle of the room and the counters to dart behind, when an invisible force hit him and sent him flying back to crash into the wall, scattering pots and pans everywhere.

That itching in Sam’s brain grew stronger, spreading along his body and over his skin, and it felt angry. Furious. It pushed against the ghost’s hold with the kind of fury that shifted it from itching to stabbing all over his skin, thousands of tiny needles, and Sam was so sure he was going to start screaming in a minute as it all tore him apart.

But then he was snapped out of it by the sound of Clint nearby, shouting “Sam, here!”

Sam looked over to find Clint on the other side of the tables, hands up. And Sam didn’t even stop to think about what he was doing – with his arms pinned, there was no way he could _throw_ the bag. His powers reacted for him, though. They flung the bag Clint’s way, and the archer took off for the back of the room.

The ghost must’ve realized what that meant, because she abandoned Sam, flickering to life as she tried to chase down Clint.

It left Sam dropping down to the ground, her attention no longer on him. More than anything Sam wanted to rush in and keep Clint safe, get the salt and somehow keep her away from him, but they needed to finish this. They needed to get this done.

Sam took off down the kitchen, dodging over items along the way, and he watched as Clint used his own hammer to smash the start of a hole in the wall before he got flung to the side and into the giant fridge. Sam let out a sharp whistle, and Clint responded instantly, flinging the bag Sam’s way.

In a move that probably would’ve had Dean laughing at him, Sam caught the bag just before he hit the island counter, one hand holding the side as he threw his body to slide over it. He slid off the other side and swung his hammer the instant he was close, breaking through the spot that Clint had started. Just as power started to gather around him, Sam slammed the bag into the hole.

Everything seemed to crackle and freeze around them as the ghost let out the kind of wail that Sam never got used to hearing. Power was like an electric current against Sam’s skin. It flared up bright, and then, almost like a bubble popping, the ghost vanished, and the power faded away.

Sam pushed himself up from the counter slowly, his body slumping just a little in relief. She was gone. They’d done it. There was no strange, lingering feeling, nothing around him to suggest that this hadn’t worked. The ghost was gone.

Straightening himself up, Sam used his wrist to push his hair back from his face as he did. Instantly he started to look for Clint, only to find that Clint was already on his feet just a little ways away, and he didn’t seem at all hurt. He was, however, watching Sam intently, his eyes bright with a light that Sam was sure he couldn’t be reading right. There was absolutely no way that Clint was… was _turned on_ right now, was he?

Any doubt Sam had about that was banished when Clint opened his mouth. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re fucking hot when you do this?”

His words startled a laugh out of Sam. He shook his head and pushed the lighter back into his pocket. “No, I can’t say that they have.”

“Oh.” Clint cocked his head, and his gaze was heated as it ran over Sam from head to toe and back again, finally meeting his eyes. There was no denying the lust there this time. Sam didn’t need the words. Though, they definitely added to it. Especially when Clint’s voice got a bit lower and just a bit raspier, and he very plainly told Sam “I’d really like to bend you over that counter right now and fuck you until the both of us are screaming.”

Sam had to clear his throat twice before he could get his voice to work. It took him a second longer to make it work to say anything other than _Yes, please_. “We ah, we really need to finish this up soon.”

“I’ve got an apartment not far away from here.”

Even before Clint finished, Sam was nodding. “That sounds great.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure smut. If you don't want to read it, you don't really have to. They go to Clint's place and have sex, and that's about it.

Cleanup didn’t prove to be a problem. It was another area that Sam was discovering that hunting with JARVIS made quite the difference. As soon as Sam let JARVIS know that they were done, and the ghost taken care of, JARVIS told him “A Stark cleanup crew will be there in ten minutes, Young Sir. If you leave the key on the tabletop nearest the front door, they’ll make sure the place is locked, and someone is around to pass the key to the owner upon their return. You and Agent Barton are free to go.”

Sam blinked a few times, staring down at his phone in surprise. “Um… what?”

“Hey, you heard the man.” Clint reached out and plucked the phone out of Sam’s hand. He gave a quick “Thanks, JARVIS!” and then turned it off. He tossed the phone back to Sam and used the moment that Sam scrambled to catch it to reach out and hook a finger in the belt loop of his pants, tugging Sam towards the door. “Come on, gorgeous. Work’s done, and I’ve got plans for you.”

The two of them rushed into the Stark car that was still outside, and Clint wasted no time in giving the driver directions and then turning his full focus right on Sam. The car door was barely shut before Clint was on top of him. Sam instinctively brought his hands up to wrap around Clint’s waist, and he slid his body down a little, making the both of them comfortable just in time for Clint to take Sam’s mouth in a kiss that was hard, and hot, and so fucking _perfect_.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. Not since he was a teenager, at _least_. That was the last time he could remember necking in the back of a car. Yet he and Clint did just that. Their mouths and bodies never fully parted the entire ride to Clint’s apartment. Normally, Sam might’ve worried about the driver, or been a bit embarrassed about it. But he was too distracted by Clint’s mouth over his, his body rolling against Sam’s.

They didn’t break apart until the driver called back to them. “Sirs, we’re here.”

Clint was the one to break their kiss. He was panting a little, and so was Sam. “Upstairs,” the archer growled at him, and the sound went straight to Sam’s cock.

How on earth Sam managed to find a voice to thank the driver and send him on his way, he wasn’t quite sure. Somehow, he managed it, and the car drove off into the night even as Clint dragged Sam inside a slightly run-down apartment building. They didn’t bother with an elevator. Clint just dragged them up the stairs, and Sam followed right after him, more than a little eager.

When they finally reached Clint’s apartment, they had to pause long enough for Clint to unlock it, and then the door was open, and Sam found himself being yanked inside and manhandled right up against a wall.

This time they were both visibly panting when they broke their kiss.

“Is this a thing for you?” Sam asked, one corner of his mouth curving up. “You barely let me get in the door last time, either.”

Clint’s eyes sparkled with good humor and that lust and _affection_ that Sam was beginning to love to see. “You like it.”

“Never said I didn’t. Just asking if it was a thing for you.”

“Mmm.” Clint caught hold of Sam’s shirt with both hands and pulled him away from the wall, and then turned him and had him walking backward towards the living room area. He was still smirking. “And if it is?”

Sam resisted the urge to glance behind him and just let Clint steer him. He trusted the archer not to crash him into anything. “Nothing. Just making note of it.”

“Yeah? Well, make a note of this, too.” With that, Clint gave a push, and Sam found his legs connecting with the couch just seconds before he was toppling back into it. Clint came with him and easily followed the motion down in a smooth move that left him kneeling with a knee on either side of Sam’s his and his hands braced on the back of the couch. Even with Sam’s height, it put Clint above him, grinning down at him. “You probably remember, but another big thing for me is consent. I like to know all parties are down with the plan before we get going on things.”

Yeah. Yeah, Sam definitely remembered that, and it was just as much of a turn-on now as it had been back them. “Sounds good to me.”

Clint licked his lips, and his eyes darkened just a bit as they ran over Sam. “Good. Now, I’m thinking about grabbing the condoms out of the end table and flipping us over and stripping you down so I can see all those fucking muscles moving without any clothes in the way while I fuck you. Sound like a plan to you?”

All the blood in Sam’s head felt like it’d traveled straight down to his cock. His throat was dry, and there was no way he was going to be able to form the words wanted here. All he could do was nod.

Clint’s grin flashed even brighter. “Awesome.” With that, his mouth was on Sam’s again, and there were no more words for a little while. Just moans and sighs as the two of them divested one another of their clothes as quickly as possible. There was nothing slow about what they were doing right then. The adrenaline of the fight had shifted nicely into lust for the both of them, and they were eager to get their hands on skin, to touch and taste and feel.

In short order, Sam found himself stripped down, and Clint was grabbing for the condoms he apparently kept in the drawer of his end table. Sam waited only long enough for Clint to get what he grabbed, and then the hunter used legs and arms to brace and push his hips up, getting just enough leverage to flip them over.

He laughed at the surprise on Clint’s face when he found himself suddenly the one sitting on the couch. But it was nowhere near as good as the way that Clint moaned when Sam drew a leg free and slung it over Clint’s hips until he could get himself in place and settled his body down into Clint’s lap. Bringing their bodies together that way, without any clothes between them, had Sam moaning as well. He braced a hand on the back of the couch and bowed his head down, heavy-lidded eyes watching as they rolled their bodies together.

“Fuck,” Clint swore, his hands tight on Sam’s hips. “Fucking _hell_ , Sam!”

Sam let out a shaky breath and dipped his head down enough to press his lips against the side of Clint’s neck where he’d learned he could make the archer shudder so nicely. “Come on, Clint. Want you in me, _please_.”

That drew another “ _Fuck_ ” from Clint. It also, however, had him pulling out the lube that he’d grabbed with the condom, and Sam couldn’t keep in his loud, pleased groan when that first finger slipped inside of him.

It was just as good as Sam remembered. The feel of Clint’s fingers inside him, the stretch and burn that came with the addition of each new finger. Sam rocked himself back on them and let his head fall back as he did, not caring at all about what he might look like. There was no room for him to be self-conscious the way that he sometimes was during sex. Clint lit a fire inside him that Sam couldn’t ever think around. It blazed its way through him and took all coherent thought with it.

Even if there’d been enough left of him to worry about how he looked or how he sounded, it would’ve vanished under the low, husky growl of Clint’s words, the steady stream of approval that he let free. “Look at you,” he was saying, pushing his fingers up even as Sam pushed down, making Sam’s whole body shudder. “Fuck, Sam, you’re just as gorgeous as I remember. So fucking gorgeous. Been wanting to do this since you came to the tower. Get you over me, under me, watch you lose yourself. _Fuck_.”

This was too much and not enough. Sam needed more, he needed so much more, only he couldn’t get the words out past the moans that Clint was pulling from him.

Luckily, his partner seemed pretty adept at reading body language. Either that or he was just as impatient as Sam was. Those talented fingers left Sam, and then Clint was bringing the condom wrapper to his mouth to tear off one corner, his hands shaking and slick and unable to get it free. But he tore the corner off with his teeth and then Sam lifted himself up enough for Clint to get the condom on, and to line himself up.

Sam shuddered at that first press, the burn and stretch as Clint slowly started to breach his body. Clint only kept one hand there long enough to guarantee that he was in the right place, and then he brought his hands out to curl over Sam’s hips, warm and steady and grounding. “All right, Sam. This is your show. Fast or slow as you want it.”

He was offering Sam a chance to do this as slow as necessary. To take Clint in at _his_ pace. It was a sweet gesture, one Sam would appreciate later on. But at that moment Sam was too far gone already, too lost in the haze of lust and _want_ , and he had an amazing pain tolerance. One that had seemed to grow even more since the wall had broken in his mind. Whereas once Sam might’ve taken this a bit slower, _now_ he simply held himself up, adjusting his knees until he was in just the right position, and then he let gravity take him straight down.

Clint shuddered and gasped as Sam’s body took him in. His hands tightened on Sam’s hips like he was going to stop him – or fuck up into him. “Oh, fucking hell. _Sam_!”

“You said,” Sam let out a laugh that turned into a moan as he shifted his hips a little, adjusting to being so _full_. “You said as fast or as slow as I want it.”

“Yeah, without _hurting yourself_!”

Sam laughed again. He brought his hands to curl over the back of the couch on either side of Clint’s head, and he tilted his own head down so that Clint could see the grin on his lips and the need in his eyes. “I like a little hurt sometimes.” As if to punctuate that comment, Sam lifted himself and let his body drop again.

It punched another husky “ _Fuck!_ ” from Clint that was broken up by a moan. Then, words were lost between the two of them as Sam kept on moving, kept bringing himself up only to drop back down, taking Clint as deep as he could each time.

The last time, Clint had done most of the steering, and Sam had loved it. He’d loved it so much. But tonight, right now, this was his show, and he took them at the pace that he wanted – hard, and fast, and just a bit rough. It only turned Sam on even more when Clint seemed to just accept it, and his hands went tighter on Sam’s hips while his hips started to push up, adding an extra snap each time that Sam came down, taking him in deeper and harder.

Sam was moaning loud enough it was a wonder that the neighbors weren’t banging on the walls or shouting at them. Clint didn’t even try and muffle him. If anything, he encouraged it, fucking up into Sam harder and harder. “So fucking gorgeous,” Clint told him, giving a sharp snap of his hips. “I knew you’d be gorgeous like this. _Fuck_ , Sam, watched you hunt those demons and I wanted you to ride me, wanted to watch the way your body moves. So fucking sexy.”

A shift of Sam’s hips brought them together again at a different angle, and Sam let out a shout.

It had Clint grinning up at him. “There?” He tugged Sam down and pushed up, laughing a little when Sam gave another shout and a long, throaty moan. “Oh yeah, definitely there.”

There was no way that Sam could say a word after that. Somehow his hands found their way off the back of the couch and onto Clint’s shoulders, and he was gripping tight as he began to ride for all that he was worth, hitting that sweet spot over and over and over again.

One particularly hard thrust combined with a sudden hand curling around his neglected cock, and Sam was _gone_. He threw his head back and rode out his orgasm with unashamed abandon.

When it faded, and his body started to go limp against Clint’s, he vaguely heard the archer swear. Then Sam’s world was spinning, and they were rolling, Sam’s back landing against the soft cushions of the couch, his legs lifted and slung over Clint’s arms. His body was folded in half as Clint thrust into him, hard and fast, chasing his own finish. Sam had just enough strength to lift a hand up, to curl it over Clint’s cheek and then the back of his neck, and he drew them together for a kiss at the same time that he tightened his muscles as best he could.

It was enough. He felt Clint’s whole body tense, felt the sharp erratic thrusts, and then Clint’s whole body went limp.

Sam’s legs were carefully lowered down, and neither one of them commented on just how much they were shaking. It felt like his muscles and skin were vibrating. Clint was gentle as he lowered one leg, though he kept the other up long enough for him to reach down and carefully hold the condom in place as he pulled himself free in one swift, shaking move.

He lowered Sam’s other leg and then divested himself of the condom, tossing it in what Sam hoped was the direction of the trash can. Once that was done, Sam was surprised when Clint grabbed his own shirt from the ground and brought it up to wipe across Sam’s stomach, cleaning the mess up before he finally gave in and laid down right on top of Sam like a blanket. “Damn, Sam,” he mumbled, burying his face in against Sam’s neck. “We’re gonna do that again, right? This isn’t just a one time, post-fight adrenaline thing?”

Sam’s lips curved up into a lazy smile. He dropped his arm down around Clint and let his eyes close, remembering the last time they’d done this, and what Clint had said to him then. Sam echoed those words now. “I’ve got plans for you.”

He felt Clint’s smile press against his skin. “I can’t wait.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for nightmares and Cage-induced trauma

Sam had sort of hoped that amazing, mind-blowing sex might be enough to tire out not just his body but his mind. One night, that was all he was asking for. Just one night without nightmares. Of course, the universe never seemed to care what it was that Sam wanted. If anything, it seemed to like to do the opposite, just for the sake of it.

When Sam shot up in bed, his mind was caught between reality and the Cage. The world felt like it was made up of hazy images and sharp edges. It was like ice, distorting what he was looking at, and with edges sharp enough to slice him open if he dared touch them. Laughter echoed around him, and that was cutting too, ripping and tearing and flaying him alive, peeling off his skin inch by inch while he was pinned down, unable to stop it. Unable to breathe.

Something moved off to the side and Sam reacted instinctively. He flung himself _away_ , as far away as he could get, until he was slamming into something hard and there was nowhere else for him to go. There was just him and the cold and the _pain_ that was breaking him down day by day, minute by minute. Eventually, there was going to be nothing left of him. Nothing but a toy there for the amusement of the archangels who hated him.

There was sound that broke through some of the haze and the laughter that was all around Sam. It sounded… different. Out of place. Like it didn’t belong here. It wasn’t Lucifer, or Michael, or even Sam’s own voice. Nor was it Dean or Tony or anyone like that. This voice didn’t belong here. Sam focused on it, trying to make sense of things. Trying to figure out who or what it was.

Little by little, it got clearer and clearer, until Sam could finally make out the words.

“…so, you know, I couldn’t just let that lie. I mean, what kind of guy would I be if I let him get away with crap like that? You know Tony – you give him an inch, he’ll take the whole damn country, and he’ll grin at you while he does it. I had to get him back for it. But I couldn’t do it right away. He was too busy watching me, an plus, he’s got goddamn Loki on his side, and I thought, well that’s not fair, right? Gods of mischief should be exempt from tower prank wars…”

That voice. Sam knew that voice.

He closed his eyes and focused on it more, letting the sound of that voice fill him, letting it drown out everything else. The more attention Sam paid to it, the more that began to slip back in. Bright blue eyes, crinkled up at the corners from a smile, or gone dark with lust. Messy blond hair that always seemed to kind of look like he’d just crawled out of bed. And that big, boyish smile, the one that lit up Clint’s whole face.

Clint.

 _Clint_.

Everything came rushing back in. Like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him, Sam jerked, eyes flying open. This time his vision was clear, and he was able to see just where he was. _Clint’s bedroom._ He was in Clint’s bedroom, in Clint’s apartment, and there was Clint himself sitting a few feet in front of Sam. The two of them were on the floor, with Sam’s back pressed up against the wall, and Clint was telling him some story about a… a prank war.

He stopped his story when he saw Sam’s face start to clear again. A smile tugged up one corner of Clint’s mouth. “Back with me, babe?”

Sam didn’t quite trust his voice yet. Instead, he nodded. Yeah, he was back with him. The last of the nightmare was fading away, though it left Sam shivering a little as he realized just how cold he was, curled up here in only his boxers.

Everything about Clint went soft. His smile, his eyes, everything. “Can I touch you yet?”

Just the idea of being touched was enough to make Sam visibly shiver again.

That was all the answer Clint needed. He nodded his head. “All right, that’s cool. Sometimes it takes me a bit, too. Here, at least take this.” Reaching to the side, he grabbed the comforter from the bed and tossed it to land on the ground at Sam’s side. Close enough for Sam to get it but enough away that he didn’t have to flinch at something coming towards him. At Sam’s confused look, Clint nodded at Sam’s arms, which were currently curled tight around himself. “You look a little cold.”

He always was after these kinds of dreams. Sam’s hands shook as he reached out and took the blanket, but wrapping it around himself felt really good, and really warm. It helped Sam ground himself a little more until finally, wrapped up in it, he was able to find his voice. “Thanks. An… sorry.”

“Hey,” Clint waved a hand before leaning back and settling his weight with both hands on the ground behind him. “No big deal. We talked about this, remember? You’re not the only one who gets these. An this definitely isn’t the worst I’ve seen. I mean, Tasha tried to stab me once, before I learned not to touch her afterward. Though, I do gotta ask…the whole floating objects thing, is that normal for you?”

Wait a second – what? It took a moment for those words to sink in. When they did, Sam had to fight to swallow down the bile that rose up his throat. “Oh, God.” His eyes ran around the room, trying to assess what had happened, or how bad the damage was. He knew he moved things in his sleep sometimes when the nightmares were particularly bad. He hadn’t even stopped to think about accidentally doing that here. “Oh, _dammit_ , I’m sorry, Clint. Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

“Woah, woah.” Holding his hands out in a gesture of peace, Clint smiled at him. “It’s fine. I’m not hurt, and I don’t dare. It’s no big deal or anything like that. I’ll be aware of it next time.”

“It doesn’t usually…” Sam paused and tried to clear the rough sound out of his voice. “It doesn’t usually happen. Loki keeps the tower warded, and my rooms more so.”

He watched Clint carefully, sure that he was going to give some sort of reaction to this, only what Sam saw wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Clint shrugged like it was no big deal. “Maybe he’ll do the same to my room. Not that I really care, but I doubt either one of us want arrows flying around. At least not accidentally. Though it’d be badass if you could do it on purpose.” He stopped and narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Can you do it on purpose? Because if you can, man, that’d be handy!”

Sam couldn’t believe it. Clint wasn’t… he wasn’t freaking out? “You don’t, um, you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

There was an honest curiosity in Clint’s question. Like he couldn’t understand why it was that Sam thought he’d be bothered by it. Sam fought back the tiny bit of hope that was trying to unfurl in his chest. Maybe Clint just didn’t understand. Maybe he wasn’t getting it. “Nothing good’s ever come from my powers,” Sam says slowly. “Maybe they were good at first, but all the… all the demon blood in me? An then holding an archangel? Getting exposed to that much grace? There’s barely anything human left about m—them.”

He’d dropped his gaze down again, so he missed the way that fire flashed briefly in Clint’s eyes. When the archer spoke, it was in a tone that carried none of the rage that had been there for that split second. He sounded casual, relaxed, and not at all like this was a big deal. “So?” He was smiling when Sam’s gaze shot up to him – bright and open. At the incredulous look that Sam gave, Clint shrugged one shoulder. “Whether they were twisted or boosted or whatever by the stuff that’s happened to you, they’re a part of you. An anything that’s a part of you can’t be that bad.”

While Sam sat there gaping up at him, unable to find words in the face of that easy support, Clint pushed himself up to his feet and held a hand out Sam’s direction. “C’mon, I’m hungry, and I’m pretty sure I’ve still got pancake mix out there. Hopefully. I’m making no promises, though.”

There was a silent wonder in Sam’s eyes as he stared up at Clint. He’d just sat here and tossed around parts of the room, had openly pointed out what was wrong with his powers, and Clint was still here. Clint still wanted him around. There was nothing on his face that suggested he was hiding anything from Sam. He wasn’t pretending like he was okay while secretly being angry or disgusted – that was a look Sam knew well how to recognize. He had plenty of practice at it. But no, Clint just looked… like Clint. His eyes were warm, his smile was easy, and he was holding his hand out to Sam like he had all the time in the world to wait for him.

Sam found that he was smiling as well before he’d even realized it.

When he lifted his hand, it only shook a little as he laid it in Clint’s, and he let himself be pulled up to his feet, leaving the blanket behind. “Breakfast sounds good.”

“Awesome.” Clint darted in and stole a kiss, hard and fast, and then practically vanished out of the room, shouting after himself as he went. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here, so I’m not sure about what’s in the cupboards. But I swear the last time I was here I had that big old bag of pancake mix. Though, I’m not quite sure we’ve got anything to put on them… you know, maybe we should find like a McDonalds around here or something…”

The last bit of tension drained out of Sam as he listened to Clint prattle away.

* * *

It turned out that, no, Clint _didn’t_ have any pancake mix. Or, well, he did, but he hadn’t exactly closed the bag up the last time he’d used it, and there were tons of tiny little moths around the bag now. Clint was staring gloomily down at it when Sam caught up with him. The hunter had a hard time not laughing at the pout on Clint’s face, especially when he grumbled a low “Aw, pancakes, _no_.”

“Tell you what,” Sam said, smothering his grin. The way Clint side-eyed him made it clear Sam’s attempts weren’t that great. “How about we get dressed, an we can head out to the nearest Starbucks, get some coffee, and find our breakfast out there somewhere.”

“Coffee?”

That one word was enough to perk Clint up almost instantly. Sam didn’t bother trying to stop his smile this time. There was no way he could do anything but smile at the image Clint made. He was a little sleep rumpled in just a pair of sweats, with his hair was sticking up all over the place, and signs of last night decorating his skin. His eyes were a bit heavy, though they were bright on Sam now at the mention of coffee, and he had a half smile that made Sam want to lean forward and bite his bottom lip.

Whatever look was on Sam’s face was enough to have Clint perking up even more. His smile started to grow, shifting into something devilish.

There was no telling where things might’ve gone. Any potential was cut off when Sam’s cell phone started to ring on the counter. It was the special tone that Tony and JARVIS only ever used when it was important. The sound alone was enough to snap Sam out of the moment. He reacted automatically, darting over to grab the phone and hit answer before his brain even caught up with his body. “What is it?” Sam said in lieu of an answer. “What’s going on?”

It was Tony’s voice that came over the line, loud and clear through the speakerphone. “ _I hate to break up the love fest, but you two need to get back to the tower. Fury’s on his way here, and he wants to talk to you, Sam._ ”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He knew who Nick Fury was. Wasn’t all that fond of the guy, really, but he knew who he was. Why on earth would Nick want to meet with _Sam_? “Me?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” and oh, boy, Tony didn’t sound happy about that _at all_. “ _So take a minute, throw some clothes on, and Lokes will come grab you two._ ”

Clint had already left the kitchen to grab his clothes, and Sam hurried to find his own where they’d tossed them last night out here in the living room. He hadn’t bothered putting anything on except boxers last night, and that was because he had a hard time sleeping purely naked anywhere. He was too much of a hunter to not want to be at least a little prepared for something to show up in the middle of the night.

Just as Sam was pulling his pants on and zipping them up, phone already in his pocket, there was a crackle of incoming magic, and Loki appeared just a few feet away. The blank look on his face – a sign that he was trying to hide his worry – didn’t help Sam feel any better.

Loki looked Sam over and took in his state of undress. Then he lifted a hand. “May I?”

The instant Sam nodded, Loki waved a hand Sam’s way, and the young hunter found himself dressed in a clean shirt, clean jeans, socks, shoes, and even a plaid shirt overtop it all. His phone had transferred pockets, too, thankfully.

That was when Clint came back out to join them. He’d been a lot faster than Sam was and was fully dressed in black jeans and a purple t-shirt with an arrow on the front. It was the most casual Sam had ever seen him, and yet at the same time, he could also see about four different weapons that Clint had hidden on his person at that moment.

Despite the lack of coffee, something that was usually required to make Clint a functioning human being, his eyes were sharp and alert. “Ready when you guys are.”

Sam wasn’t sure that _he_ was ready. He had no idea what the Director of SHIELD could possibly want with him. He clearly hadn’t told Tony, because Tony would’ve either handled it himself, or he would’ve told Sam what the issues were over the phone. Either that or Loki would’ve explained it already. But, the fact that they hadn’t, and that Tony had actually sent for Sam instead of stubbornly insisting that Sam wasn’t there or he didn’t know where he was, none of those spelled good things.

There was only one way to find out what was going on, though.

Forcing himself to breathe and calm down, Sam moved to join Loki and Clint. He caught his – lover? Partner? Boyfriend? – Clint’s eye and got a reassuring smile in return. Then Loki’s hand was on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing in a show of support, and the world melted away around them.

* * *

When Nick Fury showed up at the tower and attempted to override JARVIS and come straight upstairs – something that SHIELD had been trying ever since Phil’s lucky break when JARVIS had been rebooting after powering up the new arc reactor – Tony could honestly say the last thing he’d expected when Nick finally got upstairs was for him to ask for _Sam_.

Tony had gone to the communal floor where the others were, deliberately making sure not to hide the new bite marks on his neck or the sex hair he knew he had going on. He just had Loki teleport the two of them down to the couch down there with the both of them dressed for a casual, comfortable, lazy day. For Tony, that meant jeans, a Judas Priest shirt, and no socks or shoes. For Loki, that meant black slacks, an untucked button-up grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and no socks or shoes either.

It was an unfairly attractive look on the trickster. One that Tony planned on appreciating later. Starting at Loki’s feet and working his way up. He had a feeling his _Prince_ would get a kick out of that.

Steve, Bruce, and Natasha hadn’t startled at their sudden arrival – JARVIS must’ve warned them.

“Any idea what this is about?” Steve asked, coming over towards the couch with his coffee mug in hand.

Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows, Cap?” He shifted his weight around, putting himself a little more firmly in Loki’s lap, and kicked his legs out so that his legs were resting on top of Loki’s, which were lifted to rest on the coffee table. In response, Loki brought his arms around Tony’s waist and tugged him in a little closer.

The look Steve gave them as he perched himself on the armrest on the other end of the couch was definitely reproachful.

He should’ve known better. The only effect _that_ look had was to make Tony lean back into Loki’s embrace even more. “He comes barging in here, trying to break in past JARVIS to do it, he’s lucky he doesn’t get more of a show.”

“Or unlucky, as it were,” Loki murmured in Tony’s ear.

The rest of their conversation was cut off by the ding of the elevator. It was JARVIS’s subtle warning that Nick was there. Tony pasted on his best ‘don’t fuck with me, I don’t give a shit’ grin and prepared to remind Nick Fury why he wasn’t allowed to just barge into the Tower, and why no one got to mess with Tony’s kid.

When Nick walked into the room, Tony beamed brightly at him. “Nicky! Look at you, just dropping on by. Did we have an appointment? Pepper didn’t tell me we had an appointment. You’ll have to take it up with her or JARVIS. They’re the ones that manage my schedule for me.”

The prattle that usually bothered the rest of the world didn’t phase Nick at all. He didn’t even shake his head at Tony while he walked towards them. In fact, he kept his serious expression as he came towards the living area. When he stopped a few feet away, Tony was actually paying attention, a bit of worry beginning to creep in. Nick was looking too serious. He was looking like he was braced for trouble of some sort, and that was never a good look on anyone.

Then Nick opened his mouth, and everything inside of Tony froze over. “I’m not here to see you today, Stark.” A brief pause, and Nick’s one good eye locked right on Tony’s face. “I’m here to talk to your brother. Sam Winchester.”

He was here to do _what_?! On the inside, Tony tensed. How the hell did SHIELD know anything about Sam? Tony had done everything humanly possible to keep Sam and SHIELD apart from one another. Sure, he’d probably given them away by bringing Sam here, but he hadn’t exactly advertised their relationship. There was no way that Nick should know anything about Sam being his brother. And there was no reason that he should be here to speak with Sam like this – not any good reason, that is.

To those that didn’t know Tony, the shift wouldn’t be noticeable, but those around him could recognize the dangerous glint that entered his eyes, the way he tilted his head up and watched Nick as if he’d suddenly become the enemy. In Tony’s eyes – he had. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fury. Last I checked, I was an only child. Though I really wouldn’t put it past Howard to have a bastard or two floating around out there somewhere.”

“We’ve known about Sam Winchester since long before you met him,” Nick said.

If Tony hadn’t been tense before, he definitely was now, and he was no longer bothering to hide it. “Watch your step here, Fury.” There was a cold threat in those words. It was backed by not only his glare but the glare from Loki as well. Neither noticed that Steve was watching cautiously now, or how tense Bruce and Natasha had become. All of Tony’s focus was right on Nick.

Nick held his hands up in a gesture he clearly meant for peace. It wasn’t the smartest move. Natasha shifted back, braced and ready, and Loki lifted a hand in well in open threat.

Their reactions had Nick going still. He kept his hands where they could see them, and his eye stayed right on Tony. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Stark. I’m just here to talk.”

“Schedule an appointment,” Tony said, smile sharp and full of threat.

To the surprise of the rest of the room, it was _Loki_ who actually soothed Tony’s temper down. He stroked a hand over Tony’s stomach and leaned in to murmur in his ear, in a voice so low not even Steve’s enhanced hearing could pick up on it. “Perhaps we should hear what it is he has to say. If he’s known of Samuel this long, there has to be a purpose to him being here, and to him revealing his knowledge to you.”

Ugh. That was true. Nick didn’t do anything without a reason. If he’d really had the knowledge of Sam since before Tony met him, there had to be a reason he was just now giving Tony that information. What did he want? Why was he here?

“What do you want with him?” Tony demanded.

Nick didn’t blink at Tony’s tone. “It’s up to him if he wants you to know. I’m not a threat though, Stark. If I thought it’d go over better, I would’ve just called him, or met up with him at the coffee shop he hits on his morning run. I’m here as a courtesy, letting you know that I’m going to speak with him. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give away information. That’s up to him.”

That was something that Tony was going to have to respect, and damn Nick, he probably knew that. Consent and being up-front about things with Sam was a big deal. Too many people had made decisions for him and taken his choices away, or planned things without him, for Tony to willingly do it to him. Not even in small ways.

There was only one way they were going to find out what was going on. As much as Tony hated to do it, he pulled out his phone and pushed himself up off Loki’s lap, glaring at Nick to warn him to stay there while he paced away. He made sure to hit the code that would use the special ringtone; the one he knew Sam would always answer if he were capable.

It only took two rings for Sam to answer. “ _What is it?_ ” he said immediately. “ _What’s going on?_ ”

Tony grimaced at the panic he could hear in Sam’s voice. There was a shaky edge to it, one that instantly set him on edge. Years of being stuck talking to Sam mostly through phone and video calls had made Tony a pro at reading things in Sam’s voice. That was the voice that meant that he’d had a nightmare last night. Tony filed that away to talk to him about later, and instead kept his focus on the problem at hand. “I hate to break up the love fest, but you two need to get back to the tower. Fury’s on his way here, and he wants to talk to you, Sam.”

It took only minutes to explain to Sam what was going on, and for Loki to go and fetch both Sam and Clint. While Loki was gone, Tony turned to face Nick, and the look on his face was one that made it clear that Iron Man was more than just a suit. It was a part of who he was. And that look, clearer than any words, made it known just what would happen to Nick if he screwed up here. “You hurt him, and you’ll realize why everyone who makes me their enemy regrets it.”

To Tony’s surprise, he was echoed by a low “Same here” from Bruce.

Everyone turned to look at the quiet doctor. He was standing tall, no sign of green on his face, but none of his usual nerves, either. Bruce looked perfectly calm as he met Nick’s eye. “Sam’s a friend,” Bruce told him. “Not just mine, but Hulk’s, too. Hurt him, and neither one of us is going to be all that happy.”

Tony got the immense satisfaction of watching Nick actually flinch a little at that. No one wanted Tony as an enemy, though they often underestimated just how bad it could be, but even fewer people wanted to make an enemy of the _Hulk_.

There was only a moment for Tony to internally preen at just how much Sam had managed to get close to the people here. In the next second, Loki returned with Clint under one hand, and Sam under the other. Tony ran his eyes over them both even as the two instantly focused over on Nick. _Well, they did a better job of getting dressed than Loki and I did, but they’re sure as hell not hiding anything_. Clint and Sam both had bite marks clear on their necks, and Clint hadn’t bothered to fix his sex hair, though that could easily be mistaken for his usual messy look.

Sam eyed the Director cautiously, taking a step forward to move just the slightest bit towards Tony in a move that Tony knew was instinctive. Sam could feel the threat in the air and was positioning himself by Tony – not for protection, but to be the one to protect.

“Tone.” Though Sam didn’t look away from Nick, he spoke to Tony. “What’s going on here?”

Tony closed the last bit of distance between them and smiled at his little brother. It was a tight smile, one he knew Sam would be able to read beyond. “Captain Asshole here decided to try and break in past JARVIS so he could come talk with you.”

Anger flashed in the back of Sam’s eyes. He was just as protective of JARVIS as Tony was. Turning, he fixed Nick with a sharp stare, the one that Sam got when he was hunting. It was one that promised that he wasn’t afraid to do violence if necessary. It said _‘I’ve got up against bigger and badder shit than you and survived, you think you scare me?’_ “Was there a reason it was so important to speak to me, Director Fury?” Ever the diplomat, even when angry.

Instead of answering directly, Nick looked Sam over, taking in everything about him, and taking in the way that Clint had moved to stand at Sam’s other side. When his eye settled on Sam again, there was the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Sam Winchester. I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“How exactly do you know who I am?” Sam asked.

“SHIELD keeps an eye on every threat on this planet, Mr. Winchester. Including the supernatural ones.”

That had the room going quiet. Tony was perfectly still, fighting to keep his temper under control as the implications sank in. He felt Loki’s hand settle into the small of his back, his partner coming to join him, but it didn’t stop Tony’s temper, only curbed it. “Is that so?” Tony asked just a bit more sharply than normal. “Soooo, where were you guys during the Apocalypse, then? Or during the Leviathan? Or, hell, _any of it_?”

“Watching.” Nick's eye never moved away from Sam. His words were clearly for him. “We kept a close eye on things. You had it under control.”

The tension in the room went sky high. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Clint move a bit closer to Sam, saw the way he mirrored Loki’s pose by reaching out to put his hand in the small of Sam’s back. There was a hint of worry in the way his blue eyes darted up to Sam’s face, and Tony was reminded of Sam’s earlier tone, of the nightmare he knew his brother had to have had. Hearing Nick say those words probably cut sharper than anything. “Under control…” Sam paused and let out an incredulous laugh. “We had it under control.”

“No one else could’ve done what you’ve done, Mr. Winchester. You were the only one capable of saving us. The world owes you a debt.”

Sam let out a laugh that was broken and jagged at the edges, cutting him as sharply as it cut the rest of them. Grief and self-deprecation flashed through his gaze in those haunting shadows that had only recently begun to recede. “I broke it. It was only right I fixed it.”

“Like hell!” Tony snapped out, at the same time that Clint gave a low, “Aw, babe. No.”

Sam ignored them, of course. “What do you need, Director? I doubt you’re here to rehash my part in the apocalypse.”

“I’m not here to argue about the apocalypse,” Nick said, shaking his head. “It looks like you’ve got enough people here to help you keep your head screwed on straight with that. No, I’m here for a different reason, Mr. Winchester. I actually have a problem I think you might be interested in helping SHIELD with.”

“Me?” Sam repeated, surprised. He wasn’t the only one, either. Everyone was looking at Nick again, and this had to be the quietest meeting the Avengers had ever been involved in. They were all just bystanders; watching everything, and knowing the only real thing they could do was support Sam if he looked like he needed it.

Nick nodded his head. “I've contemplated approaching you with our offer for quite a while, but I’ve always held off in the past.”

“So why ask me now?”

“Circumstances led us to believe this might be the best time.”

Every inch of Sam locked down tight. His eyes went even harder than before, and that faint hint of threat was back, stronger than ever. “I’d think very carefully about what you dare to say here, Director.” There was no doubt in Tony’s mind – and Sam’s, clearly – just what 'circumstances' Nick was speaking of.

“I'm not trying to fight with you, Mr. Winchester. I’m here to make a proposition.” His one eye drifted around the room again and then back to Sam. “Is there a chance we could talk privately?”

Before Tony could even think to protest, Sam shook his head. He also planted his feet and made it very clear he wasn’t moving away from Tony and Clint. “No, thank you. I make it a point not to go off with strange guys who’ve apparently been stalking me. Call it a quirk of mine.”

It looked like Nick wasn’t all that surprised about that. “Why don’t we take a seat, then? This might take a few minutes.”

“Parley?” Tony quipped, not quite able to resist. The groans he got were well worth it.

Getting everyone seated proved an interesting thing. Neither Tony nor Clint were all that willing to move apart from Sam, and Tony was pleased to see the others were trying to stick close as well. In the end, Sam sat in the middle of the couch, with Clint on his let and Tony on his right. Steve stayed on the armrest where he’d been before, right next to Tony now, and Natasha took up perch on the armrest by Clint. That left Loki and Bruce to stand at the back of the couch. All they needed was Thor here, and the picture would’ve been complete.

Nick didn’t waste time once they were seated. He sat forward and rested his arms on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees, and he dove right in. “I’ll be straight with you, Mr. Winchester. SHIELD’s always been aware of the supernatural, but we only have so much understanding or training for it. As of yet, we’ve never been able to get a hunter to agree to come anywhere near us. They don’t seem to want anything to do with us.”

“Hunters aren’t the most trusting,” Sam said, a wry tilt to his lips.

“We’ve noticed. We’ve tried to talk to a few, get what information we can, but so far what SHIELD’s been able to gather is spotty at best. What we need, what we’re looking for, is someone who knows the life. Someone who can take a look at what we’ve got and help us organize it into something real.”

“You want to train hunters?” Bruce asked. He sounded just as surprised as Tony felt. SHIELD was here to recruit Sam to – help train hunters?

Nick nodded. “In a sense. You’re a Hunter, Mr. Winchester. One of the best there is. There’s no one out there who can tell us better what kind of training a hunter needs, what resources they’ll need access to, or how to help keep them safe. Right now, Mr. Winchester, the world is woefully unprepared to fight any sort of supernatural threat. The Leviathan have made that abundantly clear. I have agents out in the field that I’m responsible for, and I’m sending them out there unprepared for the threats they’re facing.”

Just mentioning the Leviathan had Sam flinching. He kept his composure, though, showing no other signs of the internal turmoil Tony knew he felt.

“Each time something has come up, we would’ve been lost if it weren’t for you and your brother,” Nick said, continuing on as if he hadn’t seen anything. “The rest of us just aren’t prepared to take on something like that. For now, it works out great, having you or your brother there to protect us. But one day you two won’t be around. Be it tomorrow, or ten years from now, or fifty – the world is going to be without Winchesters one day. When that day comes, we need to be able to protect ourselves.”

The room was quiet for a moment while Nick’s words sank in. The idea was a sound one, Tony had to admit. It made sense to train SHIELD agents to be able to start protecting the world. More hunters couldn’t hurt. Tony had seen the workload that Sam and Dean had taken on time and time again. There were rarely enough hunters to help with things. Maybe if they’d had something more organized during the apocalypse, things might’ve gone differently.

Steve was the one to break the silence first. “It’s a sound idea,” he said, looking around at the team. “Training SHIELD agents to handle the supernatural. Better they’re prepared for it than to go up against something they’ve got no idea how to stop.”

“There’s a time or two I can think of that it might’ve come in handy,” Natasha said, surprisingly.

Clint nodded from his spot next to her. “Belgrave.”

“All we need is information,” Nick said, bringing eyes back to him. “We’ve got some, but not near enough, and we have no idea how to begin training for something like this. All we’re asking is for you to look at what we’ve got and show us what you’d change, what you’d add, anything like that. We’re not asking for anything else.”

The curve to Sam’s lips held a hint of his old spark in it, as did the brief flash in his eyes. “A consultant, then?” he asked. “Let me guess. The hunter part, yes, but Sam Stark not recommended?”

The words were like a slap in the face and Nick wasn’t the only one to register it. Natasha’s eyes flicked guiltily to Tony and then away again. For his part, Tony felt a spurt of warmth and pride. It was all mixed in with that amazement that never failed to go away, no matter how many times Sam had defended him. He’d done it against Pepper and Jim, too, which was something that Tony wouldn’t have ever thought necessary.

Sam waved a hand before Nick could say anything else. “I get what you’re trying to do here, Director, and it makes sense. I’m not turning you down. I apologize, I’m a bit… tense, today. If you send over what you have, I have no problem taking a look at things and seeing what I can tell you. I have plenty of information I should be able to put together, so long as JARVIS is willing to help me out.”

“Of course, Young Sir,” JARVIS agreed immediately.

It was easy for Tony to see the wheels turning in Sam’s head. There was no way the kid would be able to keep from helping out SHIELD. If they needed his help with this, of course, he was going to give it. He wasn’t going to let them continue to run around unprepared. He cared too much about human lives to ignore this chance to save so many of them.

Sam would do everything he could to help these people prepare because he was Sam, and that was just what he did. But Tony vowed to make sure his baby brother didn’t get screwed over in the process.


	17. Chapter 17

The information came over not long after Nick left. He sent the digital files straight to JARVIS. With Tony’s permission, Sam snagged an empty conference room a few floors down where no one would bug him, and he set himself up to look over everything that Nick Fury and SHIELD had about the supernatural. And what they ended up having, well… it wasn’t a lot. What was there wasn’t even all entirely accurate.

Sam sat back in one of the big comfortable office chairs and stared up at some of the files that were floating over the table. He had his legs crossed, elbow up on the armrest, and his fingers rubbing absently over his chin.

This wasn’t going to be some simple thing like the Director had tried to make it sound upstairs. Sam wasn’t stupid – he could see just how much work this would take. Nick Fury wasn’t asking Sam to just look this over. He was asking Sam to look it over, fix it, add to it, and then help them build it. If Sam did this, he was going to be agreeing to a whole lot of work. The kind of work that was going to take up good chunks of his free time. Was he willing to give up that time – time dedicated to finding Dean – just to help out SHIELD?

Sam had been here for about five months now, and so far he and Tony hadn’t come up with anything that might help them find Dean. Nothing to suggest that he was even still alive out there.

Little by little, day by day, Sam was wondering more and more often if his brother was even still alive. If perhaps, just maybe, Dean _had_ died when he’d gone against the head Leviathan. It was something that made sense. The resulting blast from killing the thing could’ve taken out both Dean and Castiel. Dean would’ve gone to Heaven, and Castiel would’ve gone… wherever it was that angels go when they die.

Thinking about Dean being dead was something that Sam had avoided so damn hard since his brother had first vanished. He didn’t want to think that Dean was dead. He didn’t want to accept it. Because Dean being dead meant that Sam hadn’t saved him, hadn’t helped him, and it meant that…. That Sam was alone.

Oh, not truly alone, he knew. Or, at least, he’d thought that he’d known. Sam had thought he’d known what being Tony’s brother meant. But nothing had prepared Sam for coming to stay here.

Sam had friends here, now. He had _family_. His brother, his brother’s partner – someone who had been jokingly called Sam’s brother-in-law. More than that, Sam had Clint now, too, and by extension he had Natasha. There wasn’t a name for what they were right at the moment. That was fine, though. All that mattered was that they were there. Sam wasn’t alone. And maybe… maybe it was time to start letting go of some things. Maybe it was time to start accepting the fact that his brother was gone, and Sam should let him rest in peace.

The sound of something shifting not far above him had Sam’s attention pulling out of his head and up towards the ceiling. His lips were curving before he’d even realized he was planning to smile.

As if the universe had decided to somehow back up Sam’s realization of no longer being alone, that was none other than Clint Barton swinging himself down and out of the vent to land directly on the table top. To Sam’s surprise, Natasha came after him, smoothly slipping down and landing lightly, almost silently. Not for the first time Sam had the thought that he’d like to spar with her at some point and see what he could learn from her. From both of them, really.

Clint didn’t even try and look at the information that was floating around. He had eyes only for Sam, and walked straight across the table to him. When he reached the end, he folded himself down to sit cross-legged right at the edge of the table, in front of Sam, and he smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

Sam’s smile grew a little more open, and a bit warmer. “Hey.”

“So, you’ve been shut up in here for a while, and I won the coin toss with Stark, so I got to be the one to come and make sure you haven’t died or anything like that.”

“You do realize JARVIS is in here with me, right?” Sam pointed out. “If there were something wrong, he would’ve handled it himself, or he would’ve got one of you if he couldn’t.” He cast a fond look towards the ceiling that he knew JARVIS would be able to see. Then, when he looked back down and found Natasha seated beside Clint, her legs crossed one over the other instead of underneath her, and the both of them watching him with concern, Sam sighed and slumped a little in his chair. His smile gentled into something a whole lot smaller and softer. “I’m okay, guys. Just… thinking.”

“Anything we can help with?” Clint asked.

Sam shook his head. No, this wasn’t something they could help with. This one was on him. Him and what he believed, and what he was willing to believe. Later, Sam would probably end up talking to Tony about it, just because he talked to Tony about most anything, and he’d have to explain why he was lessening his search for Dean. “No, I don’t think so. But thanks, guys.”

“What about with this?” Natasha asked, gesturing to the holograms still up behind her. Her question showed that she, like Clint, knew that they hadn’t been talking about the SHIELD information a second ago. But the understanding that briefly flashed over her eyes told Sam she wouldn’t push that. Instead, she gave him an out, one that he happily took.

“I’m not sure.” Focusing on the SHIELD information was a whole lot easier. It let Sam push the rest of it to the back of his mind and bring his attention fully onto something else. However, it also brought up all the questions and concerns Sam had about this. “Correcting the information they have won’t be hard. Neither will building up an information database for them to work from. But they don’t have a single hunter working for them. That means they’ve got no one to train them all on how to do this. Reading about a ritual is one thing – actually performing it is something else entirely.”

“He probably wants you to build a training schedule for them,” Clint said.

Yeah, Sam had figured that out already. He wasn’t all that eager about it, either.

“I don’t even…” Sighing, Sam lifted a hand and ran it through his hair while he slumped back in his seat. He looked between the two in front of him as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “Where do I even start? I don’t have any idea how to compact a lifetime worth of training down into a few classes. I mean, I’ve been training for this since before I even knew the supernatural existed. I learned how to salt a room when I was five.” He dropped his hand down from his hair and twitched a little under the blank looks he was getting.

It was Natasha who drew the attention off of him and back on topic; something Sam was slowly beginning to see was a thing she was rather good at. “Focus first on the various things that people would need to learn. Fighting techniques, protection spells, rituals, lore, areas like that. Once you have those laid out, you might be able to easier take bits from each one and make a general course for the rest of the agents to take.”

That sounded like something Sam could do. Dealing with information and such was easy for him. Between him and JARVIS, they’d be able to make a general databank for all things supernatural, as well as break it down into groups. From those, it shouldn’t be too hard to plot out what people would need to learn in each category.

There was a lot of work ahead of him. More than Sam had thought there’d be when he’d first agreed to this. Yet he didn’t regret it. This was important, and it was something that needed to be done. If he was the only one who was currently capable of doing it, how could he say no?

“Come on,” Clint said abruptly. He unfolded his legs so that they dropped down to either side of Sam’s legs, and then he slid down almost into his lap. At the last second, the archer stopped himself. Though he did let his body tip forward so that his hands could come to land on either armrest, bracing him just above Sam. “You’ve been holed up here for quite a while, babe. Stark was just ordering lunch before we came down here – it should probably be up there by now. What do you say?”

Sam smiled up at the face right above his. To his surprise, it was easy for him to say “Yeah, lunch sounds good.”

It got him a beaming smile in return, and a quick kiss. “Good. Let’s go, then, cause I’m starving!”

Somehow, Sam found himself being pulled up to his feet and practically dragged out of the conference room. Natasha followed after him, smirking when Sam shot her a mock-pleading look. “Oh no,” she teased him. “You’re the one that agreed to take this on. You deal with the consequences.”

Clint’s laughter echoed through the hall.

* * *

Sam didn’t mind near as much as he pretended. He let himself get dragged up to the communal floor. Sure enough, lunch was already being served, and it smelled delicious.

Everyone was in there already, talking and laughing, and it made for quite the noise level. Especially with the music playing in the background. Yet, Sam couldn’t help but smile at it all as he made his way in.

As soon as the trio came into view, warm greetings were tossed their way. Thor called out a great booming “Welcome, friends!” and for the first time, it really felt like he included Sam in that. The animosity that had festered between Sam and Thor had faded a lot after their last talk. Sam thought that Thor might finally be starting to understand that this with his brother wasn’t as simple or as easy as he wished they were. Once he’d figured out that, it’d taken away some of the jealousy he felt, and Sam was grateful for it. He liked Thor.

Bruce offered Sam a bright smile when they got close, and he held up the spoon he had that was full of what looked like, spaghetti? “Hungry?”

An honest smile curved Sam’s lips. “Starved.” It was the first time he could remember saying that – and meaning it – in quite a while.

Somehow Sam ended up with a plaid laid down with quite a bit of food. Spaghetti, a bowl of salad, some garlic bread, and a piece of chicken parmesan. Once he had all that, he was nudged towards the table, and there was a spot open right next to Tony for him. Seeing his brother light up as Sam sat down only made the hunter smile. “Puppy! Glad to see the Assassin Twins managed to drag you up out of the pit for a while. From what I hear, you skipped breakfast. And something else, too.” That last part was said quietly, as Tony held his hand out.

Gratitude filled Sam. He lifted his own hand and let Tony drop his medicine down into it. This was later than he usually took it, and that was something he’d have to keep an eye on, but at least he hadn’t missed a dose entirely. “Thanks, Tone.”

Tony waved him off – no real surprise there. “Whatever. So! Tell me about what you’ve got going on downstairs? Just how bad are SHIELD’s files?”

“Well, they’re nothing on what we’ve got,” Sam said, knowing it would earn him a grin. He laughed at the pure ‘duh’ look that Tony shot his way. Then he picked up his bread and tore off a piece, dipping it down into his sauce while he spoke. “They’ve got a lot that’s wrong in there, too, and what they’ve got right is nothing we don’t already have. I’m thinking the best way to start is to basically dump everything that they’ve got and start from scratch…”

The table slowly began to fill up as Sam talked. One by one the Avengers served themselves before coming to join the others. They each interrupted Sam at various points, throwing out their opinions, offering suggestions, but not once did any of them suggest that Sam couldn’t do this. They didn’t try and tell him that he should leave this to someone else, or that he was wasting his time here, or that maybe he should be looking for his brother instead of committing to what was clearly a large project.

Instead, they were offering ways to help him. To _support_ him. Not just in ideas, but in manpower, too. Steve and Thor both offered to talk with Sam about physical training and how to build some kind of training regimen that would match up with the skills a hunter might need. Loki offered to help Sam plan out the magical section of things. Bruce, Clint, and Natasha all offered to help wherever Sam thought he might need them, leaving it entirely up to Sam. And _that_ blew his mind. That they would trust him to figure it out.

Through it all, Tony stayed at Sam’s side, smiling and throwing out suggestions of his own, or smart-ass remarks. He didn’t offer his help, but he didn’t have to. Sam knew he could count on Tony no matter what. He always could.

Tony had saved Sam so many times in life. Over and over again, he’d been the one steady person that Sam could lean on. Someone who would support him, help him, and care about him. If he’d ever doubted it before, these past five months would’ve erased that doubt completely. Tony had been there from the instant Sam called him, ready and willing to do whatever it took to help.

Now, because of him, Sam had a whole set of friends here at Avengers Tower. People who he cared about, and who cared about him in return. Sam had gained friends, he’d gained himself another brother, and he’d gained himself a partner that, for the first time since Jess, Sam could see a potential future with.

Turning his head, Sam smiled over at Tony as his brother shot a teasing quip Steve’s way, making the whole table laugh.

Yeah. Calling up Tony that day had been the smartest decision Sam had made. Dean might be gone, and Sam’s heart was broken over it, but here? With these people? He thought he finally might be able to heal.

 


End file.
